


Beautiful Stranger

by Morrigan_Goddess



Series: Inquistion [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Minor Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Past Child Abuse, Romance, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:17:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 110,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4812923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morrigan_Goddess/pseuds/Morrigan_Goddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Lady Cassandra, you found a way to close the rift. Well done.”</p><p>Cassandra sighed and shook her head before directing his attention to the prisoner, saying, “Do not congratulate me, Commander. This is the prisoner's doing.”</p><p>It was at that moment that Cullen got a good look at her, and he felt his breath catch. She was beautiful. Her deep red hair contrasted pleasingly against her light skin as she pushed it out of her face, and she stood as though nothing could touch her.</p><p>She was beautiful, and she was a mage.</p><p>Maker’s breath, why was he always attracted to mages?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

So many demons. Cullen couldn’t even recollect how long it had been since the explosion at the temple or when he had last rested. He couldn’t rest. If he did then it was likely that the whole camp would be overrun with demons. Luckily though, it sounded like Cassandra might have a solution to the rifts that had appeared in the sky. And Cullen just hoped that she would get here in time.

At that moment, Cullen thought he heard Cassandra’s voice ring out from behind him.

“More demons!”

“We must help them!” said Solas.

Cullen turned to try and see what was going on when out of nowhere a young woman—a mage—appeared beside him.

“Watch out!” she called out, and threw up a barrier spell just as Cullen turned to see a demon come charging at him.

The demon gave a cry of frustration, bashing it’s arms at the barrier, but Cullen struck out at it, cutting it down. Out of the corner of his eye he saw another demon fall as it was struck by lightning.

“Maker take you!” Cassandra snarled behind him, and Cullen turned to see the Seeker standing by the young woman, another demon felled.

“Keep them off me!” the young woman said, her hand outstretched.

Green light suddenly emitted from her hand connecting to the rift, and Cullen knew who the woman was. It was the prisoner who Cassandra suspected of being behind the Conclave’s explosion. Why was she allowing the prisoner here?

There was a loud CRACK! and the prisoner pulled away her hand, looking hopefully up at the rift. Cullen looked up at it too. It was still there, but no more demons were coming out. Then there was another flash and suddenly there were more demons.

“Shit!” she said and cast another barrier spell.

Cullen couldn’t blame her for cursing. The demons that came out this time were tall, with long claws, and the blighted things could teleport.

Cullen made for the closest one, but it vanished before he could reach it. He heard a loud cry and when he looked behind him, he saw one of the blasted creatures towering over the prisoner.

“Help her!” Cassandra called out, fighting off her own terror demon. Cullen didn’t even hesitate. He lunged forward and slashed down the demon . The prisoner rose up and electrocuted it, leaving behind a fading scream and the acrid smell of ozone.

“Are you alright?” he asked, turning his back to face the next charging demon.

“I’m fine!” she called back. “I just have to close this!”

Cullen gave a brief nod and tried not to think about the fact that he had a mage who could apparently control these rifts standing behind him. She clearly was trying to help in with that mark on her hand and she had saved his life. For now, he reasoned, she was an alley.

There was another loud CRACK and this time when Cullen looked back he saw that the rift was now just a floating green ball. The prisoner held her hand underneath the rift again, her whole body shaking with the effort to keep the connection to the rift. Cullen feared that she might pass out, but a split second later there was bright flash of light, forcing Cullen to protect his eyes. When he lowered his arm the rift was gone, and the prisoner was still standing.

Cassandra walked over to him, and Cullen rushed over to meet her.

“Lady Cassandra, you found a way to close the rift. Well done.”

Cassandra sighed and shook her head before directing his attention to the prisoner, saying, “Do not congratulate me, Commander. This is the prisoner's doing.”

It was at that moment that Cullen got a good look at her, and he felt his breath catch. She was beautiful. Her deep red hair contrasted pleasingly against her light skin as she pushed it out of her face, and she stood as though nothing could touch her.

She was beautiful, and she was a mage.

Maker’s breath, why was he always attracted to mages?

“Is it?” he said sounding a little more reserved than he had intended. “I hope they’re right about you. We’ve lost a lot of people.”

Wariness turned into defiance as the young woman straightened up and said, “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll do what I can.”

Her defiance made him respect her more. Like she was above all of the accusations and was going to try and put things right even if no one would thank her for it. It made Cullen wish he had been softer in his tone, and when he spoke again, he tried to make his voice not sound so harsh.

“That’s all we can ask.”

He turned his attention to Cassandra. “The way to the Temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet you there.”

“Thank you, Commander,” she said suspiciously.

_Andraste preserve me, am I that obvious?_

He needed away from her, back to the forward camp. To start working on something, anything that would keep his mind off the beautiful red-haired mage that stood before him. She was making him think things he shouldn’t even be thinking of at a time like this.

He signaled for the soldiers to return to the small camp, and followed after them. As he walked by the young woman, he gave her a quick glance again and she smiled. This time it was a full, warm smile, if a little tired, and it seemed to make her face even more beautiful than he could have possibly imagined. Suddenly, Cullen wished that they had met under different circumstances. He would have liked to have gotten to know her a little better, to get her to smile at him like that again. But he was fairly certain that this would be their one and only meeting. Even if she closed the Breach, Cullen was fairly certain that the effort would kill her, if that one rift was anything to judge by.

Cullen rushed forward to help a soldier with a wounded leg. As they hobbled along, Cullen did his best not to look back. But when they reached the stone archway that lead to the small camp, Cullen handed off the the wounded soldier and he turned towards the Temple where she now stood, her hair shining against the snow.

A sad smile crossed his own face as he whispered, “Maker go with you.”

He then turned back to the camp, pushing the red-haired mage to the back of his mind, letting his work fill it instead.


	2. Herald of Andraste

Gwen was surprised by how safe she felt in the war room. Possibly because she was no longer under the awe-struck eyes of Haven's refugees. Even now her head was still whirling from everything that had happened. She barely heard Cassandra as she introduced Gwen to the other advisors to the Inquisition.

“Please to meet you,” she said, giving a slight bow. Her eyes settled on Cullen, the soldier she’d met at the temple. Heat rose in her cheeks, but not as much as Cullen’s face when she smiled coyly at him. She had to fight to keep herself from laughing at his reaction, and she could see that Leliana, the spymaster, missed none of this.

 _I can’t wait to see how that plays out,_ Gwen thought with a small smile. _I don’t think Leliana is one to let a thing like that drop._

“I mentioned that your mark needs more power to seal the Breach,” Cassandra said, interrupting her musings.

“Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help,” Leliana said quickly.

Cullen shook his head as he said, “I still disagree. The templars could serve just as well.”

Gwen grimaced at Cullen’s suggestion. He wasn’t wrong, but she had been on the run from templars for so long that the idea of more in Haven wasn’t a comforting thought. Both Leliana and Cassandra didn’t look happy at Cullen’s comment either and the latter gave a heavy sigh.

“We need more power. Enough magic poured into that mark‒”

“Might destroy us all,” Cullen interjected. “Templars could suppress the Breach, weaken it so‒”

“Pure speculation,” Leliana said, slightly frowning. It was becoming clear to Gwen that this was the continuation of an older argument.

“I was a templar. I know what they are capable of.”

Gwen felt her fists clench, and her jaw tighten. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice her reaction, and Gwen forced herself to relax. He’d said he _‘_ was’ a templar, which meant he’d left the Order. But there was another feeling rising in Gwen’s chest, anger at herself. She had let herself fall for a templar once, and it had cost him his life. And now her careless flirting had caught the attention of another.

She looked away from the Commander, determinedly turning her attention to Josephine.

“Unfortunately, neither side will speak with us yet. The Chantry has denounced us, and you specifically.”

“They still think I’m guilty,” Gwen said wearily. She wasn’t surprised; next to elves, mages were the most distrusted and mistreated.

“That is not the entirety of it,” Josephine replied with a little concerned. Gwen braced herself for more bad news, her jaw clenched shut.

“Some are calling you—a mage—the ‘Herald of Andraste.’ That frightens the Chantry. The remaining clerics have denounced you, and us for harboring you.”

“Chancellor Rodrick’s doing, I’m sure,” Cassandra said with disgust.

“It limits our options. Approaching the mages or templars for help is currently out of the question.”

Anger and disbelief filled Gwen’s chest and clenched her fists, “Just how am I the _‘Herald of Andraste?’”_

"People saw what you did at the Temple—" Cassandra began, but Gwen had had enough for one day.

“No!” she said, cutting Cassandra off. “You’re not going to go around calling me _the Herald of Andraste!_ I may not remember how I got this blighted mark, but I—”

“It’s their belief that’s protecting you from being mobbed, Herald,” Cullen said seriously. “You may not like it, but if we do not support their belief then the Inquisition may fall apart.”  

Gwen opened her mouth to continue arguing, but Leliana broke in with her soft voice, “And given that you don’t remember what happened who’s to say that it wasn’t Andraste? The people need hope, Lady Trevelyan.”

“I know but—,” she stopped. Leliana was right, Cullen was right, the only thing that was protecting her was the mark and that belief that she was blessed by Andraste. But it didn’t make her feel any better.

Desperately, her eyes roved around the room to each of the advisors, but they didn’t settle until they landed on Cullen. Unlike everyone else in the room, he didn’t seem to view her as some kind of savior. Instead, she felt like he was trying to get the measure of her, to see if she could do the job put before her. Somehow, that knowledge made her feel a little less frightened.

“Alright, I’ll be your Herald,” Gwen said, not dropping her eyes from the commander.

“That's all we ask,” Cullen said giving her a slight nod of approval, and then looked away from her. She felt her confidence waning, but she ignored the feeling. Right now, she needed to show them that she could do the job that they had given her.

“So if the mages and templars won’t speak to us, then how do we get them to listen?” she said, resting her hands on the the table. It was something she’d seen her mentor, Lydia, do and it always seemed to command people's attention.

“There is a chantry cleric, Mother Giselle, who has asked to speak to you. She’s in the Hinterlands, helping with the refugees.”

Gwen raised a skeptical eyebrow, “The Chantry has denounced us. Why would she speak with me?”

Leliana shrugged as she said, “I hear she’s a reasonable sort. Perhaps she can help us with the Chantry.”

Pursing her lips, Gwen thought over Leliana’s suggestion. The idea of meeting with more chantry clerics didn’t seem like the best idea, but Gwen couldn’t see a way around it. The Chantry still had enough power over the people, and without them she couldn’t get the aid the Inquisition needed.

“Alright, I’ll go and meet with her. Hopefully she can help us get the Chantry on our side.”

“I’ll go with you,” Cassandra said, stepping closer to her approvingly. “The Mage-Templar war has started up again, and we can’t have you accidentally killed.”

“Yes,” Gwen said, with a slight smile. “I’d like not to be killed after surviving a giant hole in the sky.”

Cassandra smiled back at her, “Agreed.”

The smile from Cassandra and the more friendlier expressions from the advisors put Gwen more at ease. But it wasn’t until she met Cullen’s eyes again that she felt her shoulders relax. His own smile was much more restrained than the others, but there was a look of respect. Gwen smiled back at him, and straightened up.

“Well,” she said, “let’s get that Breach sealed.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Gwen exited the chantry with Cassandra, they found a crowd waiting for them. Gwen tensed up, all her confidence leaving her. A woman approach her, and she could feel bile building up in the back of her throat. She swallowed it down, forcing herself to relax as the woman took her left hand, and kissed it.

“Maker go with you.”

The woman then bowed, backing away as she did so. Gwen stared at the woman in complete shock, and barely noticed as a man also came up to her. He too kissed her hand, but held on to it a little longer, thanking her profusely for saving them. At a loss, Gwen looked towards Cassandra, who didn’t looked surprised at all.

“I’m just glad I could help,” she finally managed to say, gently pulling her hand out of the man’s grip as she backed away. Another man came forward to kiss her hand but at that moment Roderick’s voice rang out.

“Behold, the Herald of Andraste! Celebrating a little early don’t you think?”

Gwen turned to see the sour face of Roderick, his eyes squinting at her with with a horrible scowl. Cassandra placed herself between the cleric and Gwen, a stony look in her eyes.

“I should have guessed you’d return to stir up more trouble.”

“I am not the one who has started a heretical group, Seeker. What you’ve done here is shameful and disrespectful to Andraste herself. That mage should be locked away, not raised up as the equal of Andraste.” Roderick replied, pointing his finger at Gwen in disgust.

Gwen had had enough of the priest’s accusations. Crossing her arms, she looked back at the Chancellor, not bothering to hide her dislike.

“To be judged and then hanged? Or worse, made Tranquil? Forgive me Chancellor, but I don’t have much faith in a justice system that’s out for revenge.”

Roderick pointed at her hand, speaking loud enough for the people around them to hear; “Listen to me, we have no idea what that mark can do. For all we know, it could tear another hole in the sky.”

“Trying to start a riot, Chancellor?”

Gwen turned to see the commander walk up to the priest and firmly plant himself between Gwen and the chancellor, who stepped back warily. Assured that the Chancellor had been momentarily cowed, the commander turned his attention to the crowd, who cautiously backed away.

“Don't you have duties to attend to? Get back to them!”

Everyone quickly dispersed except Varric, who walked up to Gwen, his head tilted to one side with concern.

“You doing alright there, Herald?” he said, with a reassuring smile.

She didn’t reply,  still staring straight at Cassandra and the commander, who stood in front of Roderick.

“Continue to cause trouble here and we shall be forced to ask you to leave. There are enough problems already with the mages and templars, we don’t need you to add to them,” Cassandra warned.

“You are determined to do this, Seeker? To ruin the world based upon the word of two apostate mages?” replied Roderick, his crossing his arms to try to match the commander’s stance. “Has it even occurred to you that she is a manipulative lying rat?"

Gwen pushed past the commander and Cassandra and stood at her full height over Roderick.

“I’m here to help. There is a hole in the sky and right now the mark is the only thing that can stop it. If I become a raging abomination then by all means set the templars on me, but in the meantime stop raving and help the refugees that need you!”

The look of befuddlement that came over Roderick 's face was almost enough to make Gwen smile in victory, but she forced herself not to. She hadn't won this fight yet; she needed to be the better person right now.

Roderick’s eyes narrowed with disapproval, but he knew he’d lost this fight. As he turned away Gwen heard him mutter, “you’ll be the ruin of us all.”

Once the Chancellor was out of sight, the panic Gwen had forced down in her stomach finally overcame her. She rushed over to the side of the Chantry and vomited up what little food she had eaten that day. She vomited so violently that her hand slipped from the stone wall and fell forward when strong arms caught her.

"Steady," The commander said softly in her ear. "You'll be alright, just breathe."

“Let me go!” Gwen rasped, shoving him away. The commander stepped away from her, his hands raised to show he meant her no harm. But Gwen’s panic and embarrassment was too far set in, and she backed even farther away from him.

"Easy there Herald; Curly won't hurt you. He's probably one of the few decent templars left in Thedas," Varric said gently, his hand outstretched. "Just take some deep breaths."

"I'm not a templar!" Cullen snapped.

"Right, and I'm not a dwarf,” Varric muttered, keeping his eyes on Gwen, who stood there trembling in the snow. Concerned, he reached carefully out to Gwen, giving her a warm smile.

“Feeling better, Herald?"

Gwen forced herself to breathe, using the techniques her mentor had taught her to help her control her emotions. To give herself time, she knelt down in the snow and used it to wash her face. She waited for her body to stop trembling, and stood up.

"I'll be fine."

A lie, but she wasn’t going to admit that her nerves were getting the better of her to a Seeker and a Templar. Varric gave her a searching look, nodded, and then turned to Cassandra.

“I think the Herald and I should go somewhere quiet for a moment. Let her get her bearings.”

Cassandra scowled, “We are leaving for the Hinterlands; this is no time to be fooling around.”

“Look at her, she’s scared stiff,” Varric replied, nodding towards Gwen. “Give her some time to take in all that’s happened, and I’m sure she’ll be the Herald that you need, Seeker.”

Gwen felt a wave of gratitude for the dwarf’s attempt to get her away from the adoring and accusing crowds. It was too much to deal with at the moment.

Cassandra gave a snort, and turned to walk away. The commander looked at Gwen briefly for a moment, but when he saw her glare at him he, too, turned and walked away. Varric smiled in triumph and signaled for her to follow.

“Come on, Herald, let’s go check out the frozen lake.”

Hesitantly, Gwen followed Varric. As they walked Gwen tried not to give any attention to the people who kept stopping to look at her, but it was hard. Some had friendly, awestruck looks, but there were more than a few who gave her distrustful glances. Gwen forced herself not to fold her arms or look down as they walked past the refugees, a task that proved to be easier said than done.

When they finally reached the lake, Varric crossed his arms and looked out over it. He waited a moment, letting Gwen relax a little before finally giving her a small smirk.

“Good to be away from prying eyes?”

Gwen managed a smile, but didn’t meet his eyes. She brushed a stray hair out of her face and took a deep breath.

“Yes. Normally crowds are not a problem, but this...I just don’t know what to make of this.”

Varric gave a small laugh, shaking his head as he said, “Neither do I. And I’m not the one being called, _the Herald of Andraste_. I suggest you just go along with it. It’ll keep you safe. Power in numbers sort of thing.”

Gwen didn’t answer. She was in a camp with a whole bunch of angry templars and priests who would love nothing more than to make her suffer for the Divine’s death. And even though Cassandra and the commander seemed to be on her side, she wasn’t sure what to make of them.

“The truth is, I don’t know who to trust,” she finally said, kicking the snow. “You traveled with Cassandra, Varric. Do you think I can trust her?”

The dwarf didn't answer right away. When Gwen snuck a look at him, he was stroking his chin, clearly thinking.

“When I met Cassandra, she'd kidnapped me and questioned me about the Champion of Kirkwall for hours, but she never hurt me. She strikes me as the type who doesn’t harm people unless she feels it’s necessary. And even then it's a last resort.”

“But can I trust her?” Gwen persisted. “Or the Commander for that matter? I know he left the Order, but he’s still a templar.”

“Listen Herald, if we’re going to close that hole in the sky then we need to set aside our differences, as hard as that might seem. Cassandra might be prickly, but you’re safer with her than anyone else in this camp. As for Cullen―”

He paused for a moment, and Gwen turned to give him a sharp look. But the dwarf only sighed and shook his head.

“I first met Cullen back in Kirkwall about eight years ago. If you’d have asked me then I would have told you to stay away from him. Yet he stood with the Champion against Meredith and afterwards he kept the remaining mages and templars at the Gallows safe.”

“That doesn’t mean I can trust him. He clearly doesn’t trust mages,” Gwen replied, crossing her arms.

“I think you’re mistaking caution for mistrust. I pretty certain Cullen had a bad run in with mages, and it haunts him, but he won’t hurt you or any mage here. And given how quickly he came to your aid against Roderick, I think it’s safe to say he’ll look out for you.”

She wanted to believe him, but months of being on the run was still ingrained in her. However, Gwen had to admit that the commander had been kind to her at the war table, and saved her life from that demon. But what really troubled her wasn’t that he didn’t trust mages, but that she’d liked the feeling of his hands on her. And if she didn’t check those kinds of thoughts, she could get herself into a lot of trouble with him.

This didn’t change the fact that Varric was right though. She had to play along and be the Herald of Andraste, close the rifts, and hope that Cassandra and the commander wouldn’t decide that she was too dangerous. And the only way she could do that was by proving that she wanted to do the right thing.

“Alright,” she said, her shoulders finally relaxing. “I’ll try to trust them.”

“Good,” he said, giving her one of his more charming smiles. “Now, if you’re feeling better I suggest we go find the Seeker before her head explodes. That Breach isn’t going to seal itself.”

For the first time that day Gwen laughed, “I think that would be a good idea.”


	3. Val Royeaux

There was a loud ruckus coming from the Chantry when Gwen returned to Haven. She jumped off her horse and was soon followed by Cassandra, who looked just as puzzled. 

“Any ideas what this is about?” Gwen asked as she handed the chestnut’s reigns off to one of the soldiers. 

Cassandra only shook her head. “No, but given how Haven is full of both templars and mages, I can guess.”

“If it’s anything like what we saw in the Hinterlands, Andraste protect us all,” Varric said sardonically, his face grimacing with dislike. 

Pursing her lips, Gwen debated whether she should go and see what the noise was about or if she should just stay away. If she was honest with herself she didn’t want to get any more involved in this mess then she already was. But, she supposed, she was being hailed as the Herald of Andraste and should probably play the part.

“I’ll go and see what this is about.” 

Cassandra nodded, but still looked a little cautious.

“Just be sure not to get involved if it is the mages and templars. The last thing we need is for you to be killed by a riot.” 

“Thanks for the reminder,” Gwen said sourly.

“She is right,” Solas said. “You may be the Herald, but there is tension in the air. Take care.” 

Gwen gave them a mocking salute, which made Cassandra scowl at her. Varric, on the other had chuckled and gave her a wink. She smiled back at him and walked up to the Chantry. 

As she had suspected, there was a large group of mages and templars arguing in front of the Chantry. They were going back and forth, accusing each other of having some part in the Divine's death. Gwen hung back, knowing that with the heat that was rising, her presence would only add fuel to the fire. 

_Nice to know nothing’s changed with the death of the Divine,_ she thought wearily. The thought of going back to war was not pleasing to Gwen. While she believed in freedom for mages, the death and destruction seemed to have accomplished nothing but more mistrust. 

She tensed suddenly as two among the crowd began to get excessively aggressive. 

“Your kind murdered the Most Holy!” one templar said, stepping forward. 

“Lies!” shouted an older mage. “Your kind let her die.” 

“Shut your mouth, mage!” 

The templar reached for his sword and Gwen worried that a fight was about to break out when the commander came rushing out of the Chantry.

“Enough! Mark, sheath your sword!"

“Knight-Captain,” Mark said, his stance relaxing.

“That is not my title” the commander growled. He pushed the mage and templar further apart. “We are not templars any longer. We are all part of the Inquisition.” 

Gwen wondered at the commander’s repeated insistence that he was no longer a templar. But her thoughts were soon distracted by the chancellor, who, once again, had returned to stir up trouble. 

“And what does that mean, exactly?” 

Cullen turned to face him, and by the look on the commander’s face it was very evident that he was finding the chancellor to be a nuisance. 

“Back already, Chancellor? Haven’t you done enough?”

“I’m curious, Commander, as to how your Inquisition and it’s ‘Herald’ will restore order as you’ve promised.” 

“Of course you are.”

The contempt in his eyes could not have been more clear if he’d spat at Roderick’s feet. He ignored the chancellor and turned his attention back to the mages and templars. 

He broke up a few more that tried to attack each other and then he gave them all a very pointed look. 

“Back your duties, all of you.” Both parties hesitated for a moment, but after another glance at the commander’s stern face they turned away and slowly dissipated. 

Gwen was impressed by how the commander had handled the situation. There was no way they could resolve the differences between the two groups, so he had simply sent them back to work. Busy people meant that they would be too tired to argue. 

Unfortunately, Chancellor Roderick had not moved. He stood there, glaring at the Commander. Deciding that she might as well hear exactly what they were saying to each other, Gwen approached both of them. She didn’t glance at the chancellor, who seemed affronted that she was so obviously ignoring him. 

“What's going on?” 

The commander shrugged and explained, “It's the mages and templars. They were already at war, now they’re blaming each other for the Divine’s death.” Roderick interrupted them, annoyed at being ignored. 

“Which is why we require a proper authority to guide them back to order.” 

Gwen had to hold back a smile as Cullen looked down at the small man, clearly unimpressed with him. 

“Who, you? Random clerics who weren’t even important enough to be at the conclave?” 

_Andraste, he’s even more handsome when he takes change, especially if he’s annoyed._ Gwen thought, then blushed a little as she scolded herself. She shouldn’t be thinking things like that about the commander. Thankfully, both the chancellor and the commander were too distracted to have noticed her.

“The rebel Inquisition and it’s so-called ‘Herald of Andraste’? I think not.” 

Gwen looked down at the Chancellor, frowning as she said, “I don’t know, we seem as functional as any young family." Roderick's contempt could not be more clear, and even though he was shorter than Gwen he did his best to stand as tall as her.

"How many families are on the verge of breaking out into open warfare with themselves?" 

The commander snorted as he said, "Yes, because that would never happen to the Chantry." 

"Centuries of tradition will guide us. We are not the upstart, eager to turn over every apple cart." 

Deciding that there was no point in feeding the fire, Gwen turned her attention back to the commander. 

"The Mages and Templars are fighting even though we don't know what actually happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes?" 

Before the commander could answer the Chancellor broke in.

"Exactly why this should be left to a new Divine. If you are innocent the Chantry will establish as so." 

Gwen glared at the Chancellor, who surprisingly looked a little nervous. 

_He's afraid of me._ She realized. She didn't know why but it seemed to make her angrier. But before she could say anything the commander spoke up. 

"Or will be happy to use someone as a scapegoat."

"You think nobody cares about the truth? We all grieve at Justinian's loss." 

"But you won't grieve if the Herald of Andraste is conveniently swept under a carpet."

She didn't know why Cullen was standing up for her, but she was grateful for it. And it softened her anger. Perhaps it was just knowing that someone was standing by her side that took it away. She crossed her arms and glared at the Chancellor. 

"Tell me why are we allowing the Chancellor to remain? All he seems to be doing here is stirring up trouble." 

"Clearly your templar knows where to draw the line." 

The look on the commander's face was so livid Gwen was surprised Roderick wasn't running for the hills. He crossed his arms and glared down at the Chancellor, and when he spoke there was no doubt of his contempt for the old man.

"He's toothless, there's no point in making him a martyr because he runs the mouth. The Chancellor’s a good example of what to expect in Val Royeaux, however."

"Well good luck keeping order, then." Gwen said sarcastically. To her surprise the commander actually smiled. 

"The walls will be standing upon your return. I hope." 

_Andraste, he made a joke,_ Gwen thought, a much brighter smile crossing her own face. Roderick gave a snort of contempt and walked away. They both watched him go. Deciding that there was no point in hanging around, Gwen made to leave when the commander spoke.

"Are you alright?" 

"What?" 

She turned back to see him looking a little disconcerted, but he managed to compose himself and repeated the question. 

"I was just wondering if you were alright."

"I'm not about to go throw up in a bush if that's what you're asking." 

"No, I just...forget that I said anything." 

Gwen gave him a puzzled look. She could see the confidence draining out of him very fast, which was odd; he normally seemed so confident in himself. But there he was, his face red and refusing to meet her eye as he walked away. 

"Why did you do it?"

The commander stopped and looked back her, a similarly puzzled look on his own face. 

"Do what?" 

"Stand up for me. You didn't have to do that." 

The commander reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, but he briefly met her eye. 

"You helped us stop the Breach even though you had no reason to, and from the reports I've read you're doing what you can to help people. For that reason alone I respect you." 

Gwen opened her mouth and then closed it. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but it hadn't been that. Given how she had acted when they told her that she was now known as the Herald of Andraste, she’d expected that they’d think less of her. But here, he was openly admitting that he admired her. She brushed her hair nervously out of her face, uncertain as to what to say. Finally she manage to find her tongue. 

"You're not bothered that I’m a mage?" 

A small laugh escaped from him, and he finally met her gaze.

"Does it bother you that I was a templar?" 

"That wasn't really an answer, Commander." 

A playful smirk came across the commander’s face, but he still met her glance. Gwen couldn't help but smile in return. A little more relaxed, he kicked at the snow and then looked up to meet her eyes. 

"I guess we're going to have to learn how to trust each other." 

"I suppose so," Gwen replied. "This war has to end somewhere." 

She paused for a moment, thinking over something, and then decided she just might as well say it.

"Thank you, for keeping me from plummeting into my own vomit last time. I was too upset at the time to say anything, but I was grateful."

"I...it was nothing Herald." He said, surprise clear as day on his face. She shook her head a little and smiled. 

"You know, when we’re alone, you can just call me Gwen." 

His surprise quickly turned to discomfort as he stammered out. "I—that would—would be inappropriate. If we're to establish ourselves as a formidable group then we must show you the proper respect."

To her dismay, Cullen seemed to grow even more uncomfortable and reached up to rub his neck, which she was coming to realize was a nervous habit. Perhaps she should have just let things be between them. By letting him use her name, she was allowing for them to become too familiar with each other, and she couldn’t let that happen. It would be better if she kept things formal between the two of them. 

"Look, I get it,” she said. “Call me Herald when it's called for. But in situations like this, please call me Lady Trevelyan at least. I’d like it if people would use my name a little more often." 

Cullen still looked slightly uncomfortable, but he stopped rubbing his neck and attempted a smile. 

"I—Alright, Lady Trevelyan." 

Gwen gave him a grateful smile, not caring who saw the relief in her face. Despite everything, she liked Cullen, even though he was a bit pompous and arrogant at times. He seemed to actually care about her welfare, something she hadn’t experienced in a long time. If she had known him better, she would have wondered if she’d admit that he invoked feelings of safety. 

Instead she just gave him a small nod and said gently, “thank you. Really.” 

She left to go speak with Leliana before he could say anything else. She had no problem with letting him know that they could be friendly, but Gwen knew that the last thing she needed to let happen was for the Commander to start thinking she meant it to be more. Templars and mages shouldn’t be together. The only thing was, she was hard pressed to convince her heart of that.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gwen had thought from the very beginning that going to Val Royeaux was a bad idea. 

She’d become even more certain about it when the scout had come to report that the Templar Order was waiting to arrest them. And now, her body was tensing as a hoard of templars were marching towards them, their eyes full of malice. 

Beside her, Cassandra was also tense, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. This was going to break out into a bloody fight if Gwen didn’t do something. 

Forcing herself to calm down, she reached out and put her hand on Cassandra’s, shaking her head. Cassandra gave her a disapproving look, but removed her hand from the sword’s pommel. Gwen desperately tried to think of something to say that would convince the cleric that she wasn’t a threat. But by the look in the revered Mother’s eyes, she knew that anything she said would fall on deaf ears. Then the unexpected happened. 

The revered mother triumphantly pointed at Gwen and said, “Templars, seize them!” 

The Lord Seeker had walked up with a Knight-Captain, who stuck the Chantry cleric in the head, knocking her to the ground. Gwen stared at the templars in shock, her mouth open. Cassandra looked just as shocked. 

The templar that had been standing beside the revered mother also looked confused, his eyes questioning his captain. The Lord Seeker patted his shoulder and smiled at the young man. Gwen did not like his smile; there was something malicious about it. When he looked at her he there was a hungry look in his eyes, like he couldn't wait to see what her insides looked like. But she swallowed her fear and faced the Lord Seeker, putting as much contempt in her voice as she could. 

"Was that display suppose to impress me?"

"On the contrary, that wasn't for you at all," he said sneeringly. 

He walked down the stairs, clearly ignoring her as Cassandra approached him, "Lord Seeker we—" 

"You will not speak to me." 

Cassandra looked like she’d been slapped.

She tried again, "Lord Seeker?" 

"Starting a heretical group, raising up a mage as Andraste's Herald... You should be ashamed." 

Gwen frowned at the Lord Seeker. Even for a templar, this was unusual behavior, and it put Gwen even more on her guard. There was no chance to win over the Lord Seeker; he clearly had made up his mind about her. The young man behind him looked uncertain, like he wasn’t sure that he agreed with the Lord Seeker's actions. 

Gwen decided to take a chance. 

“Templars! One of your own commands the Inquisition's forces. Join, as he did.” 

The words sounded weak, even to her own ears, but she had to try. Any ally would help them, even if it was only a few templars. But the Lord Seeker only scowled at her. 

“You’re a mage, your ties are worthless. All are made traitors just by being in your company.” 

The young man however stepped forward and said, “But Lord Seeker, what if she was sent by the Maker? What if—” 

The Knight-Captain turned and snarled at him, “You are called to higher purpose! Do not question!” 

Gwen hand to bite her tongue to keep from yelling herself at that, knowing it wouldn’t improve her standing. But by Andraste this was the one thing she found to be the most annoying about templars: they could be fanatically loyal to a fault. 

Not wanting to give up just yet on this potential ally she gave one more try. 

“You don’t have to follow them. You know this is wrong, and the templars in the Inquisition still believe that it is their duty to serve the Maker. Help us close the Breach.” 

The young man looked uncertain, and Gwen suddenly hoped that he would come to her when the Lord Seeker stepped forward. 

“Oh yes, your templar’s faith was so strong that he abandoned his vows and the Order.” 

Before Gwen could stop herself she shouted at the man, “If a templar’s duty is to protect others, he’s a better templar than you. He remembers that his duty is to the people, not glory.” 

She had lost them, she knew it the moment the words were out of her mouth, and the Lord Seeker knew it. He gave her a cruel smile as he face her, walking towards her menacingly. Gwen forced herself not to back away, even though the man terrified her. 

“You’re a mage, of course you’d think we are the enemy. But I will make the Templar Order a power that shall stand against the Void. We deserve recognition. Independence! You have shown me nothing. And the Inquisition...less than nothing.” 

Behind him the Templars saluted, even the young man who she’d been trying to reach out to. She had clearly lost. 

“Templars!” The Lord Seeker called out. “Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection. We march!” 

They all turned, leaving Gwen and her companions behind in the dust. Varric walked over to them, the disgust clear upon his face.

“Charming fellow, isn’t he?” 

Cassandra stared after them in disbelief. 

“Has Lord Seeker Lucius gone mad?” 

Gwen pursed her lips and then asked, “Do you know him?” 

“He took over the Seeker of Truth two years ago. After Lord Seeker Lambert death. He was a decent man. Never given to ambition and grand standing. This is very bizarre.” 

Grimacing, Gwen made her way over to the fallen Chantry sister. 

"So much for getting any help from the Templars." 

"I wouldn't write them off so quickly. There maybe some among the Order who will see reason." 

Gwen made no response, knowing that if she said anything more it would only result in an argument. The whole trip to Val Royeaux felt like a complete disaster. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Upon Gwen's insistence, the group set up came a few miles outside of Val Royeaux. She didn't feel safe within its walls, and since neither Solas, Varric, nor Cassandra had protested they had left the city behind them. They all sat around the fire, no one saying much. Varric was cleaning Bianca, while Cassandra was sharpening her sword. Solas was reading a book he had brought with him, while Gwen stared at the fire. 

"Something on your mind there, Herald?" 

Gwen gave him a slightly sad smile and said, "I just...I keep going over that fiasco in Val Royeaux trying to figure out if I could have done something different."

"You did all you could," Cassandra said, looking up from her blade. "And remember: you got us three new people for the Inquisition." 

"Not to mention that you got the mages to speak with you," Solas added, finally looking up from his book. "These small victories will play into bigger victories later." 

Gwen tried to smile, but she went back to looking at the fire, a slight frown on her face. 

"I guess...I just hoped that we could get the Templars to help too. That maybe we could all work together. But it was a foolish notion. I should have known that the Templars would never follow a mage."

"I don't think it was a foolish notion." 

Gwen looked up at Varric, who was staring at the fire. His face serious. "Shouldn't we strive for ideals? I mean, I'm no expert on this kind of thing, but it's the heroes that strive for ideals that make the world better for a while." 

"I'm not a hero," Gwen said looking away from the fire.

"I'm just trying to do the right thing. And so far, it keeps exploding in my face."

She didn't look up, not wanting to see what the disappointed look in their eyes. Suddenly there was a hand on her shoulder, and Gwen looked up to see Solas sitting beside her, a small sad smile on his face.

"You haven't failed. You got the Mages to reach out to you. And who knows, perhaps some of the Templars will follow you instead of the Lord Seeker. There was something wrong with him." 

"I agree," Cassandra said, temporarily pausing in her work. "The Lord Seeker...I'm not sure what it was, but there was something off about him."

"I felt like he wanted to...I don't know. Devour me."

Gwen wrapped her arms around herself as she said this, her brow furrowing as she continued, "I'm going after the Rebel Mages. I know that there are good Templars, but I have to trust that they will act as Cullen did and come and help us on their own." 

Cassandra pressed her lips together, clearly not happy with her answer. Her voice made it even more clear that she was displeased with Gwen's answer. 

"Not every Templar has Cullen's strength of will, nor his ability to stand up against their superiors." 

“Do we want such people fighting for us then? I’m not saying the Rebel Mages are perfect, but their leader is at least willing to work with us. I think with the Templars, we’d have more success with those who come to our aid willingly,” Gwen replied. 

Cassandra still didn’t look happy with Gwen’s response, but she said nothing and went back to sharpening her blade. Gwen grimaced. In the short time she had spent with Cassandra she had come to put some faith in the Seeker, but this was yet another example of how far they had to go before they really trusted each other. 

“Cassandra,” she said softly, “After we seal the Breach I’ll reach out to the templars again. Maybe they’ll listen when I’ve shown that the Inquisition can actually do something.” 

Cassandra paused again, and gave Gwen a searching look. Gwen met her eyes, trying to show her that she meant what she said. That was she really wanted was peace. 

“I suppose you’re right,” Cassandra said slowly . “Templars rely more on action than words. It might be best approach them after we take care of the Breach.” 

A warm smile spread across Gwen’s face, and Cassandra gave a restrained smile of her own. They were making small strides, to be sure, but they were learning to trust each other. Perhaps, with time, they might even be able to call each other friends.


	4. All Before You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize for the length between chapters. This is mainly due to the fact that my Beta took forever to read over this chapter. I can assure you all that I have made her swear that she will never take 2+months to edit a chapter again. That being said, I hope you enjoy this long awaited chapter.

                                                                                                                         

He was back, trapped behind a barrier that couldn’t be broken, cries coming from the Harrowing room. Struggling to breathe, Cullen tried to break the barrier, but nothing worked. He knew what was to come next.

Out of the shadows came a woman, dark hair, blue eyes, fair skin, and clothed in practically nothing.

Amell.

Only it was nothing like Amell. Her eyes were cold and when she spoke her voice was the unholy, sultry purr of a desire demon, nothing like her. He averted his eyes, raising his arms to ensure that he wouldn’t risk looking at her, silently begging her to leave him.

Suddenly, there was a flash of green light, and Cullen looked up to see someone standing behind the fake Amell, who screamed as she was sucked into the fade. When the green light faded, Cullen saw that it was Gwen Trevelyan standing before him, looking at a loss.

“Cullen, where are we?” she asked, giving him a puzzled look.

_No,_ he thought. _No, no, no, NO!_

He stood up, and banged his fist furiously on the barrier, calling out for her to run, to get out of there. But like everyone else, she couldn’t hear him.

Behind her was a looming shadow Gwen didn’t see as she walked towards him. She reached out with her left hand, the one with the mark, and touched the barrier. It broke in a flash of light.

Cullen looked around.

He was no longer in Kinloch Hold, but in Honnleath. Gwen was still standing by him, looking around in puzzlement. But then she turned to him and smiled, that warm smile that he’d only seen from her a few times, and Cullen felt his heart fill with warmth.

“How…?” he began, but his question was silenced as she pulled him around and kissed him. Andraste, how much he enjoyed that kiss. For a moment his mind told him that this was just another trick of the desire demon, but he found he didn’t care.

There was another flash of light, and Cullen jerked awake with a small cry of pain. It felt like someone was hammering a spike into his head, and when he chanced a look, the room began to spin.

Moaning, Cullen buried his face back in the pillow, and tried to think about something else.

Drained by the pain and restless sleep, it was hard to cast his mind elsewhere. Even after ten years, the dreams were just as vivid as when he’d left Kinloch Hold. He’d watched as his fellow templars succumbed to the demons’ games, Uldred laughing in the background, only to be left alone with the demonic Amell who’d tormented him with his selfish desires. But no one from his waking life had ever joined him in his nightmares. And yet, Gwen had appeared, broken the barrier, and brought him to a place where he still felt safe.

Not to mention the kiss.

In a strange way, it had almost been a good dream.

It was unfortunate that the previous day he had closed off any chance for that dream to actually become a reality. He groaned slightly at the memory.

The day had begun so well; Gwen had walked up to him after her horse had been settled in the stables. He’d been preparing for an awkward conversation, but Gwen had been ready enough to talk, and he found himself enjoying her company. He’d actually gotten a little carried away while talking to her, but once he realized it, he’d stopped himself.

_“I’m sorry, I doubt you came here for a lecture.”_

_“No, but it you have one prepared I’d like to hear it,”_ Gwen had replied fairly quickly, her eyes gleaming with mirth.

Despite himself, Cullen had chuckled, _“perhaps some other time.”_

She’d smiled at him, and Cullen remembered feeling heat rising in his face. He’d struggled for a moment to try and find something to say when they were interrupted by a messenger. Gwen was not so easily put off, and somehow had managed to get him talking to her about the templars, of all things.

In truth, he’d thought nothing of it until she’d asked, _“do templars take vows? ‘I swear to the Maker to watch all the mages’? That sort of thing?”_

It was an odd question, because it was something he’d thought she’d know about.

He’d answered it, not thinking of where this could lead until she’d said, _“a life of service and sacrifice. Are templars also expected to give up…physical temptations?”_

_“Physical? Why…”_ he’d had to pause for a moment to clear his throa _t. “Why would you—”_

_Maker, she was flirting with him. And like always he was making a complete fool of himself. Desperately, he came up with a safer answer. The last thing he needed was to make himself out to be more of a fool._

_“That’s not expected. Templars can marry—although there are rules around it, and the order must grant permission. Some may choose to give up... more to prove their devotion, but it’s, um, not required.”_

The smile that had crossed Gwen’s face was different from any she’d given him before. It was almost... alluring. Even now the memory of that smile was making his heart pound.

_“Have you?”_ she’d pried, and Cullen had struggled not to completely lose his nerve as he gave his clumsy answer.

_“Me? I… Um… No, I’ve taken no such vows.”_

Andraste, he had made such a fool of himself. Desperately, he’d changed the subject. They’d talked of other things, like their different experiences in the circle—avoiding the controversial subjects. Though there had been one question he’d ended up asking, despite his better judgement.

_“You’re from Ostwick, right? What’s it like being away from the circle?”_

_“It exhilarating. I’ve met so many people, learned so many things—”_

She’d stopped abruptly, her excitement suddenly turned into a grimace, and said quietly, _“but that’s probably selfish of me, given what’s happened.”_

_“No, it’s only fair, I suppose. We are glad for your help.”_

He’d hoped that it would get Gwen to open up again. But to his frustration, she’d shut down, putting that gap between them. ‘I’m a mage and you’re a templar’... it bothered him. But that was only the first of his problems interacting with Gwen.

Later that day, the five of them had gathered for a meeting in the Chantry. Cullen had heard earlier from Leliana what had happened in Val Royeaux, and it had been disappointing to learn that the templars continued to ignore the people’s needs. But it wasn't until Gwen told everyone that she was going after the mages that he'd felt any real concern. He’d said nothing until the meeting had ended.

He’d approached Gwen, asking to speak with her privately. She had complied, though she did look a bit suspicious as he began to speak.

_"Herald, I know that you're not comfortable around templars, but I must ask you to reconsider your decision to get the mages."_

There’d been only a slight narrowing of Gwen’s eyes in reaction. Otherwise, she’d kept calm.

_"The mages are at least willing to talk to us. And the Lord Seeker made it pretty clear he wants nothing to do with me. Why should I waste my time when they clearly don't want me?"_

_"That’s one man amongst several men whom I know would not agree with the Lord Seeker. Templars are trained to follow the orders of their superiors.”_

Gwen hadn't looked convinced, and her voice had made it clear that she didn’t believe him.

_“You left the Order. Clearly, some of you have the ability to make your own choices instead of following around like blind sheep.”_

The insult stung a little, and it was probably that which made him react the way he did.

_“Lady Trevelyan, I don't have enough templars to manage the mages if one or more of them becomes an abomination."_

_"You're basing this on the possibility that something bad is going to happen."_ Gwen replied, her eyes lighting up like veilfire. He should’ve just ended it there, but he was angry and seemed unable to stop himself.

_"It's my job to assume the worst, Herald. If a mage becomes an abomination it could wipe out the whole camp!"_

Gwen hadn't even bothered hiding her anger. She’d folded her arms and glared at him.

_"Glad to know you you have such 'faith' in me, Commander."_

She’d turned to walk away when Cullen had reached out and stopped her.

_“Herald, it’s not that I think you are not able–”_

When she looked back at him there had been such a furious look that he’d immediately stepped back. The scorn in her voice was very threatening as she’d advanced forward, finger raised.

_“Just the rest of my kind, right? Well let me tell you, Commander, I’ve seen what your fucking templars do. They slaughtered a friend of mine just for trying to help us escape the tower in Ostwick. They didn’t care that he was a templar, one of their own. They just cut him down like a dog—left him to die—as they chased after us! That’s what your ‘precious’ templars do!”_

Gwen almost had Cullen backed up to the Chantry’s wall at that point. He was both impressed and a bit embarrassed that she had managed to do that. But instinct told him that interrupting her would be a very bad idea, so he stayed put as she raged on.

_“And yes, I’m well aware that mages are dangerous. I’ve had that plowed into my head my whole life. But for every abomination, there’s at least ten mages who want to do the right thing!”_

She’d then stormed off, leaving Cullen standing in the Chantry watching her go. After a few moments, his shock turned back into anger, only this time it was at himself. All this time and he had still learned nothing from Kirkwall.

For two years now he'd been trying to let go of what had happened to him in Ferelden. And he thought he'd made some progress, but his treatment of Gwen had shown otherwise. Now she probably despised him.

He’d given Gwen her space after that, unsure how to apologize to her. Several times throughout the day he had thought about making the attempt, but there never seemed to be a good moment to try and mend bridges. Later, Varric came to him while he was training the next round of recruits.

_“Heard you and the Herald had a bit of a spat.”_

_“You could say that,”_ Cullen had replied without looking at him.

_“Did anyone tell you, Curly, that when it comes to women, it’s best to not antagonize them if you want to get into their pants?"_

Cullen remembered feeling all the blood drain from his face at Varric's words and when he spoke, he’d struggled to string two words together.

_“I’m not- I mean I haven’t- There’s nothing going on between us Varric!”_

The dwarf only laughed as he’d said, _“I saw how you looked at her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smitten before . Luckily, I think she likes you.”_

_“Varric, the Herald and I are just colleagues. You’re reading too much into this.”_

_“Uh-huh. So you wouldn’t be interested to know that she spoke rather highly of you in Val Royeaux?”_

He’d made no response to Varric’s comment, uncertain of what to say. She had spoken highly of him in Val Royeaux? Why? Most of their interactions had bordered on antagonistic.

But Varric seemed to know exactly what Cullen was thinking. Giving him a mischievous smile he’d said, _“If you’re still interested in her, an apology tends to go a long way.”_

_“She’s a mage.”_

_“Right, and what does that have to do with an apology? Go talk to her when she’s had some time to cool off, apologize. I'm tired of seeing you looking so miserable."_

The dwarf had swaggered off before Cullen could say anything in response. It’d taken Cullen a moment to realize that while he was staring after the dwarf in disbelief, his men were watching him. He’d scowled at them and barked to get back to their drills. The soldiers had complied without question, as if sensing this was not the day to tease their Commander.

Back in his room, Cullen tried to raise his head off the pillow, but the light still made his head throb. He was relieved that he had his own space in the cabins.

At first he had protested against having a cabin to himself, claiming that a tent would be enough, but Josephine wouldn’t hear of it.

_“If you are to be the Inquisition’s commander then you must be treated as such. Besides, it’s one of the smaller ones, so stop complaining.”_

Now, as he slowly sat up, he was glad Josephine had been so insistent. He hated to think what the recruits would say if they saw that their commander couldn’t even put on his boots in the morning.

Even as he reached for his boots, the pounding in his head seemed to get louder and there was a ringing in his ears. He tried to ignore it, but as he pulled the boots on the room began to spin. Stopping, he gave a slight whimper as he buried his head in his hands.

There was a soft knock on the door, but with his headache, it sounded thunderous.

“What,” he moaned.

There was a pause before a soft familiar voice said, “It’s me, Gwen. Leliana asked me to see if you were coming to the meeting.”

_Maker’s mercy_ , he had forgotten about the blighted meeting.

“Coming...” he replied, and tried to stand up. It was a big mistake.

The room spun and Cullen fell forward, knocking over the clay bowl on his bedside table. It shattered, and the door to his cabin swung open, as Cullen fell to his knees.

“Commander!” Gwen said rushing to his side.

She grabbed hold of his arm and heaved, helping him stand up enough to bring him back to his bed. Shutting his eyes Cullen lay back on his bed, groaning in pain. His body felt like ice as cool sweat drenched his brow. Like he was he getting another fever. Then, a warm hand was pressed against his forehead. When he opened his eyes he saw Gwen bending over him, looking slightly worried.

“Maker, you’re as pale as a sheet. Stay here; I’ll tell Leliana that you’re not feeling well,” she said, heading for the door, but Cullen grabbed her arm stopping her.

“No. Just...headache.”

“You’re not well. I’m getting Adan or one of the mage healers," Gwen said firmly.

"If I wanted help, I would have said so!" Cullen snapped, his anger finally letting him get a full sentence out.

"Andraste preserve me, are you always such a stubborn ass?" Gwen threw back just as angrily, jerking her arm out of his hand.

Silence fell between them, as they glared at each other, both of them too stubborn to move. Oddly, her anger seemed to make her eyes shine like emeralds.

They also told him she wasn't going to budge. A scenario eerily reminiscent of the  Mage–Templar war.  

"Sorry," he muttered, falling back on his pillow. Gwen let out a sigh and when she next spoke her voice was much gentler.

"Do you have anything for the headache?"

"No," Cullen muttered, closing his eyes. "Nothing... works."

There was another pause and then hesitantly she said, "I know a potion that could help. It will take some time for me to make, but it will help you stand on your feet."

"Fine," was all Cullen said through shut eyes. He heard Gwen pick up the pieces of broken pottery, and then headed out the door.

After a few moments he opened his eyes and looked at the desk drawer where he knew his philter was. It would be so easy to stumble across the room and take a small sip of lyrium. Would it really do any harm?

_No,_ he thought furiously. _You swore never again. You won't be bound to that life!_

Desperately, he tried to think about the drills he should have the recruits go over to try and distract himself, but his head wouldn’t stop pounding enough to let him concentrate. It had been a few months, shouldn’t the symptoms have tapered off?

If anything, everything seemed to be getting worse: the nightmares, the headaches, and the occasional panic attacks. Cassandra took over training when his anxiety became too much, and he’d been unable to hide it from the Inquisition. The last thing he wanted was for someone to think that he couldn’t do his job, but now Gwen had seen him brought to his knees by a headache, and he couldn’t stop wondering what she thought of him now.

_Probably no worse than yesterday,_ he thought sadly. He spent the next ten minutes with his head buried in his pillow, trying not to think about lyrium.

When Gwen returned, she opened the door quietly, taking care not to make too much noise.

“Here’s the potion,” she said just as softly.

Opening his eyes, Cullen saw Gwen standing before him, a small bottle full of a green potion.

She removed the stopper and held it out to him as she said softly, "just take a mouthful.”

Cullen put the bottle up to his lips and took swig of the potion, grimacing at the taste. Gwen shared a small smile as she leaned against the door frame, waiting to see if the potion worked. She didn’t look at him but stared out the window, and Cullen wondered if she was still mad at him. Remembering what Varric had said to about apologizing, he decided that he might as well give it a try.

“Herald, about yesterday.”

“What?” Gwen said blankly, her attention clearly having been elsewhere.

His heart sunk a little, but Cullen pressed on. He had to let her know that he was sorry.

“Yesterday... Our argument. I’m sorry about what I said to you.”

There was no response at first, and Cullen began to wonder if he had done more damage by bringing it up. But Gwen only grimaced, and gave a slight shrug.

“It’s alright. I wasn’t exactly kind on my end.”

Cullen looked up in surprise, to see Gwen looking at him, that  slight grimace still on her face. From what he could see, she was being genuine, but that thought didn’t make him feel much better. Gwen noticed his look and gave a small sigh.

"I believe you meant no harm. Just... maybe choose your words more carefully. I like to think that I’m a tolerant person, but even I have my limits."

It was a scolding, but a much gentler one than he deserved. It confused Cullen, and made him feel even worse about what he’d said to her the previous day.It would have been easier if she’d stayed angry at him. Maker knew he deserved it.

He swallowed as he said, “I’ll take more care with what I say, Herald. And... I will stand by your side, whatever choices you make.”

To his relief, her expression softened, and when she spoke her tone was gentle.

"Thank you. Though, don’t beat yourself up too hard. I know that the templars are important to you. But it’s like you said: we’re going to have to learn how to trust each other."

Cullen gave a sheepish smile, and some of his disgust was replaced with gratitude. He was surprised that she'd remembered something he'd said. His mind traveled back to the templar she had mentioned before, and wondered what he was to her.

"That templar you mentioned yesterday, who—"

"Don't."

He looked up to see that she her arms were folded and she was looking down at her feet. Cullen his face heated up, why had he asked such a stupid question? He was about to apologize again, but Gwen spoke up before he could say anything.

“Alright, you deserve _some_ explanation.... His name was Gregory. We were... friends, I suppose. On the day of the rebellion, a few mages and I got cornered. I don’t remember much except that we were in a hallway, it was dark, and I was surrounded by men in armor who were trying to beat me to death.”

Her fingers absentmindedly brushed over a scar on her forehead. Cullen had seen it before now, but he hadn’t wondered how she’d gotten it until now.

Cautiously, he pointed at it and asked, “is that how you got that scar?”

She tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace as she said, “a gift from a templar’s gauntlet. I was too drained to heal it at the time.”

Her glance then drifted back to the floor, and it seemed to Cullen that she was no longer in the room. He was about to speak when she shook her head abruptly, and went back to telling her story.

“Gregory came in and saved us, saved me. He led us to a passage that would get us out of the circle tower, away from the chaos.”

She paused again, swallowing harshly, but she pressed on.

“Gregory stayed behind to make sure no one followed us. The last I saw of him, he was being cut down by another templar attempting to follow us. And... it’s hard to see the good ones hurt for the malicious acts of others.”

"I'm sorry,” Cullen said, looking down. “I shouldn't have pried."

Gwen brushed her hand across her eyes, shaking her head as she said, "It's fine. I wouldn’t have said anything if it wasn’t. How's your head feeling?"

It took Cullen a moment to realize that his headache, while not completely gone, no longer felt like someone was trying to drive a spike through his skull.

"It's better." He looked at the bottle with amazement and said, "I don't know what's in this, but it's worked the best."

Gwen's face broke into a small but genuine smile as she straightened up, taking the bottle from him.

“We’d often receive templars at Ostwick that needed more... long-term healing. Sometimes they were unwilling to talk about what was ailing them. My mentor came up with some brews that would help them until they were willing to tell us what was really wrong with them.”

She looked at the bottle’s contents and then placed it in her pouch.

“I’ll make you up some more. It’s only a bandage for whatever is the real problem, and it’s effectiveness will wear if you take it too often, but for the mornings you can't get up, it should help.”

"You don't have to put yourself through the trouble," Cullen said, finally sitting up. He could feel Gwen watching him, but when he looked up she quickly looked away, biting back a smile. Cullen grinned a little at her reaction. When she spoke, she didn't seemed flustered at all.

"It's no trouble, I need to make more healing potions, anyway."

“Thank you,” he said gratefully, as he started to pull on his boots. “You didn’t– With the way I acted‒”

She waved her hand dismissively and said, “I’ve dealt with worse. You might be a stubborn ass, but at least you’re not a self-righteous, egotistical ass. I’ve met enough of those lately to last me a lifetime."

Cullen laughed as he pulled on his other boot, and said, "I've heard the Orlesians can't help it."

Gwen giggled, and the sound of her laughter made Cullen’s heart leap a little. He looked up at her again, and was struck by how green her eyes were. They really were beautiful to look at.

“Are you alright?” she asked a puzzled look crossing her face, and Cullen suddenly realized he’d been staring at her, _again._

_Maker's breath, first at the war table and now here._

“Um, yes. Apologies Herald, I—”

“Trevelyan.”

“What?” Cullen asked, looking up in surprise.

“I told you call me Lady Trevelyan. Or _please_ , call me Gwen. I think we’ve gotten past the ‘awkward stranger’ stage at this point.”

At this she nodded at his disheveled, half dressed state. Cullen’s face went up in flames. He could feel the heat coming off it and as he spoke he was once again stammering over his words.

“Right, um...”

_Sweet Andraste, Cullen! It’s not like she said anything flirtatious. Just talk to her like a normal human being._

"Heral- Lady Trevelyan, you can go on ahead. Tell Josie and Leliana I'll be there soon," he said, grabbing his shirt, looking anywhere except at her.

"Take your time. I told them we'll speak around noon."

Cullen felt his face flush again, and he muttered, "I’ll be ready soon enough."

“You were as white as a sheet only a few moments ago,” she said, an incredulous look on her face.

“I’ll be fine. Trust me, this isn’t the first time I’ve gone through this.”

Gwen raised her eyebrow skeptically, but she didn’t press the matter. Instead, she opened the door and started to walk out.

“Alright, just take your time. Josephine is in a meeting with some Fereldan noble expressing concern over the _evil_ heretics here, and I don’t think it’s going to be over anytime soon.”

She closed the door before he could protest with a slight shake of her head. Cullen stared at the door without moving for several minutes with a sense of regret at Gwen’s departure.

He did his best to ignore the feeling, and finished getting dressed. He occupied his time until the meeting by reading over some reports, speaking with some of his lieutenants about training regiments, and at the meeting, managed to not stare at Gwen _too_ often. More to shut Cassandra up than because he was actually hungry, he ate a little something at the tavern, and then left to train the troops.

As Cullen was training some of the new troops, he’d looked up to find Gwen walking towards him. She smiled at him and began to wave him over, and he noted a bottle full of green liquid in her other hand. He walked over to her, his heart skipping a beat when she smiled at him, holding out the bottle.

“Here, I gave Adan the recipe, but I thought you should have some to keep by your bed. Only take it when you can't get up."

Surprised, Cullen took the bottle and stared down at it. He then looked up at her, not sure if he should be grateful or not.

“I... Thank you.”

“Of course, and if you need anything...” she paused for a moment, and Cullen noted that she looked a bit uncertain. Her hand reached up and pushed back her hair nervously. “If you want to talk to me about the headaches, I’m willing to help.”

A warm feeling came over Cullen, and he couldn’t help but give Gwen a slight smile of his own as he said, “Thank you. And take care. I know you can look out for yourself, but still.”

He stopped, unsure of what to say next. Thankfully, Gwen gave him a shy, but knowing smile.

“I will, Commander.”

She turn and mounted her horse, leading Cassandra, Varric, and Solas out of Haven. As Varric passed by, he gave Cullen a knowing wink.

“Told you, an apology goes a long way.”

Cullen refrained from scowling at the dwarf, though this didn’t stop Varric from chuckling at him. A part of him was grateful for the dwarf’s advice.

Another part of him, a much bigger part, was beginning to realize something; despite his best attempts, he was falling in love with Gwen Trevelyan.

 


	5. First Time in Years

For the first time in weeks, Gwen finally felt like something was going right. True, the Breach was still in the sky and there was that horrible future threatening them, but she had managed to secure the rebel mages in an alliance. And no one could dissuade her giddy feeling over something finally working out the way she’d hoped. 

Gwen felt like skipping as she made her way down towards the healing tents. Adan had asked her if she’d help Mother Giselle with the wounded, since she was more skilled in that area than he. 

She’d been happy to comply; it was a familiar task that kept her mind off her problems. As she made her way down, she ran into Dorian. 

Her smile brightened at the sight of him. Ever since they had met in Redcliff, Gwen had taken a liking to him. He was upbeat, even in the face of danger, and despite all the strange things that had happened to them in Redcliff, he’d stood by her side. 

She had found it easy to smile and greet him as he came sauntering up to her.

“Hello. How are you settling in?”

“As well as can be expected. The weather is miserable and the food and wine is barely tolerable, but you certainly keep things interesting.”

Gwen gave a small laugh as she said, “How so?”

“Well, for one, the Inquisition supports free mages. Given what I’ve heard about the south, that’s a miracle. What’s next? Dancing naked in the moonlight around Halamshiral?”

“I’ll think of something,” she said, giving a slight shrug of her shoulders. She looked up at him through her lashes, giving him one of her warm smiles. Dorian didn’t miss the intended meaning, and returned it.

“I’m sure you will. With your charms, I’m sure you can wrap anyone around your finger.”

Gwen felt herself blush a little at Dorian’s compliment. 

“We’ll see. I have a massive hole in the sky to deal with first.”

“After that future we saw, I’m sure it the Breach will be easy for such a graceful and formidable woman.” 

Gwen laughed a little. She liked flirting with Dorian, who seemed to be enjoying her company as well. But he seemed to think of something, and his expression grew more serious. 

“I was wondering if you have given any thought to what this could mean? I mean, you’ve enabled mages to be... Well, to be like mages back at home.”

“So long as they’re like you, I don’t see a problem." 

Dorian gave a small laugh as he said, “I’m afraid that there aren’t many mages like me.”

“That’s too bad.”

A coy smile crossed Dorian’s own face, but before he could say anything else the Commander came around the bend. He stopped, his eyes meeting Gwen’s, and she felt her heart begin to pound.

_ No! _ Gwen told herself firmly,  _ don’t think about the templar. Think about this handsome mage beside you. He’s much better for you. _

“Commander!” Dorian said joyfully, “Were you just passing by, or were you coming to see Haven’s best looking mages?”

“I- What-? No. I was just heading out to train the recruits,” Cullen stammered, his face flushing. Gwen looked curiously at Dorian.

“That certainly would be a sight I’d enjoy." 

“I- What?” 

Gwen had noticed it, too; something in Dorian’s voice was fairly suggestive. But while Gwen would have taken up on the invitation to flirt, Cullen just looked completely at a loss. 

“Struck speechless, I see,” Dorian teased. He turned to Gwen with one of his more charming smiles and asked, “is he alway this way?”

“Dorian, let him be,” Gwen said, surprised that she was coming to Cullen’s aid. “He’s probably distracted with work.”

“Yes, and I must get back to it.”

Cullen quickly walked past both of them, and as he passed Gwen he surprised her by glancing her way. Despite his assurances that he’d back her up in anything, Cullen had still been upset that she’d let the mages join as allies. She’d calmed him down when she pointed out that they’d be more likely to cooperate as allies than conscripts, but he’d still seemed a bit upset. 

His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before heading out the main gates, and it was...  grateful. Beside her, Gwen heard Dorian give a slight whistle.

“My, he  _ is _ a handsome one. Too bad he’s already infatuated.”

“What do you mean?” Gwen asked, her brows furrowing.

“My dear Trevelyan,” Dorian said, turning to face her. “An impeccable flirt like yourself must surely know that you’ve caught our Commander’s attention. He hasn’t been able to keep his eyes on anything else since I’ve been watching.”

Gwen felt uncomfortable, and looked down at the ground. She’d known since their first meeting. Every time they had a meeting together she’d catch the Commander looking at her at least once. But she flirted with everybody. Why should it matter if the Commander took it so seriously?

“I know,” she finally said, sullenly. 

Dorian raised an eyebrow skeptically as he said, “well, I don’t know about you, but if I had a handsome man looking at me like that, I wouldn’t waste anytime.”

“There are other men to pick from,” Gwen said, giving Dorian a look over. Dorian caught her meaning, but instead of flirting back his expression became one of concern. 

“Lady Trevelyan, before this goes too far, I think it’s only fair to tell you that you have much better chances with Commander Cullen.”

He was apologetic as he said this and Gwen forced a smile, suspicions confirmed.

“The Commander is much more your type then I am, isn’t he?”

Dorian was obviously surprised at her declaration and Gwen gave a rueful smile.

“To avoid the Chantry’s wrath, many mages stuck to forming relations with their own gender. It was only a problem when a mage actually got attached. They’d separate the two if they were discovered. I knew what I was looking for .” 

To her surprise a look of shame crossed Dorian’s face, but he met her eyes all the same.

“Yes. I’m sorry, I should have been more clear with the intentions of my flirting.”

“No, it’s alright. That’s what flirting is for, anyway,” she said with a more genuine smile. “Finding out if you're someone’s type.”

“If I have hurt you, I do apologize-”

“No,” Gwen replied quickly. “You didn’t. And I enjoy the flirting. I just... ”

Gwen stopped, realizing that she’d begun to look towards the training ground where she was sure the Commander was standing. The look did not go unnoticed by Dorian.

“You care for the Commander, don’t you?” 

His voice was kind. There wasn’t any suggestion of anger in his tone, that he was offended at the idea of being used as a substitute. But even that knowledge didn’t make Gwen feel any better. If anything, it just made her more confused and a little angry.

“I...  I don’t know,” Gwen said, unable to look at him. “It’s complicated. And...  I just don’t know.”

“I’d have thought it would be an easy thing to piece out. For all his dislike of mages, he is quite taken with you,” Dorian said in puzzlement.

“I don't know how things are in Tevinter, but here, mages are not allowed to fall in love or have families. And it’s especially frowned upon to have a relationship with a templar.”

Dorian looked slightly dismayed as she said this, and Gwen found herself wrapping her arms around herself to block out the discomfort in her stomach. Dorian studied her for a moment, as if trying to work something out, and gave a small nod.

“Well, that might be a problem if he were still a templar, but he isn’t. And the Chantry and their Circles have all but fallen apart, so who cares what those people say. Fall in love—if not with the Commander, then someone else—and be happy. Maker knows you have enough problems without making new ones.”

Silence fell between them as Gwen thought over his words. He was right—there was no one to tell her what to do, or who to fall in love with. It was strange, but even after two years, the restrictions of the circle still reached out to her. Was that the only reason why she was fighting her feelings for Cullen?

_ No, there are other reasons, _ she thought. But in truth, Dorian had made them seem somewhat trivial. Dorian seemed to see what was going through her mind and he gave a small smile.

“Look, I haven’t grown up here, so I really don’t know what you’re risking. But if you ask me, it’s a risk worth taking. And trust me when I say ‘don’t settle for what’s expected of you.’ It won’t make you any happier.”

He gave her a slight bow, and sauntered off towards the cabins, to get out of the cold and away from suspicious glares, she guessed. Gwen stood there for a while, thinking over what Dorian had said. A part of her still railed against his advice, just as another part of her was hurt by Dorian’s rejection. 

“What am I? Fifteen?” she muttered to herself as she made her way towards the healing tents. 

_ But what if...   _ she thought, but shook her head. She was almost glad when she arrived at the healing tents as it presented her with a distraction. Rolling up her sleeves, Gwen took the first patient that Mother Giselle gave her, pushing all thoughts about mages and templars to the back of her mind.

* * *

 

The rest of the afternoon Gwen worked on helping Mother Giselle with the wounded. Most of the injured these days were pilgrims who had received injuries on their way to Haven with a few soldiers mixed in. The work was comforting, distracting her from her conversation with  Dorian. 

"Herald, I think you should take a break."

Gwen looked up from a young boy she had been helping with burn marks, and saw Mother Giselle standing beside her.

"How long has it been?" 

"You've been working for several hours. And while your work ethic is admirable, we do need you to be able to seal the rift tomorrow." 

"I suppose you're right," Gwen sighed. She turned her attention to the boy. 

"Next time, let your brother build the fire, alright?" 

The boy only scowled and jumped off the cot he'd been sitting on, rushing off towards the main camping area. Mother Giselle chuckled. 

"I'm sure we'll be seeing him again."

"I'm sure you will," Gwen said, a smile on her face. She got up and washed her hands as she called back to Mother Giselle, "I'll take some time off. Maybe come back later." 

"You've done enough," Mother Giselle said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Take the time to prepare for closing the Breach."

“Truth be told, I find this comforting. Familiar. At Ostwick we looked after templars and mages that had been badly hurt. Tried to help them recover, if we could.”

“An admirible thing to do. Especially given the general feelings between mages and templars.”

Gwen shrugged as she dried off her hands, and said, “honestly, in that place, it didn’t matter. When someone’s hurt that badly, you stop seeing mage and templar and just see the pain.”

“Has your life been full of pain?” Mother Giselle asked. She was trying to be kind, but Gwen felt like the revered mother was prying and she didn’t like it. Her problems were her own to deal with.

“No more than anyone else,” Gwen said, handing back the towel to her. “Thank you for letting me help here.”

“Of course, Herald. You are welcome at any time.”

Mother Giselle gave a small bow and stepped back, allowing Gwen to leave. But as she was leaving, she saw Cassandra marching up towards the main gate at Haven. She might not have noticed it, if it wasn't for the fact that she was towing the Commander behind her. It looked almost like a mother leading a wayward child. Cassandra suddenly saw Gwen and marched right for her. 

"Herald," she said firmly. "Have you had your noontime meal?" 

Frowning, Gwen shook her head. Cassandra turned back to the Commander and pulled him forward. 

"Good. I want you to take the Commander to the tavern and make sure that he eats. I don't want him to leave until he's had a substantial meal." 

Said commander stood with his arms folded across his chest, looking very put out. 

"I can look after myself. I don't need someone to babysit me." 

If he'd thought this would have had any impression on Cassandra, he was very wrong. Cassandra simply scowled at him, folding her own arms.

"Clearly, you do. A slice of bread and some ale or water is not substantial for a day of training troops. Now go. If I see you back on the training ground before the hour’s up, I'll drop you on your rear in front of them. And don’t think I can’t do it.”

Behind her, Gwen could feel people staring at the unfolding scene, and Commander Cullen was starting to notice too. His face was slowly turning a bright shade of pink. Quickly, Gwen stepped forward and took him by the arm with a bright smile.

"Commander Cullen, will you escort me to the tavern for a midday meal?"

The there was a brief look of surprise on Cullen's face before he covered it up with a forced smile and a nod. Taking her cue, Gwen walked forward, pulling him along. It took the Commander a moment to realize what she was doing, but once he did he quickly caught up.

"Are you sure this is appropriate?" he whispered to her.

"Fret not. You're simply being a gentleman and escorting a lady to lunch. It's perfectly normal."

“We’re in the middle of a war camp,” Cullen muttered, but Gwen only shrugged.

“So? Good edicate does not stop at the city gates, Commander. This will only be a big deal if you make it one. Otherwise, you’re just escorting a lady and winning some points with the few nobles that are here.”

The Commander didn't looked convinced, but all he said was "I forget that you are a noble, sometimes." 

"Oh?" Gwen said, raising an eyebrow. Panic suddenly filled his face and Gwen felt his muscles tighten under her arm. 

"No! I didn't mean- I just meant- Uh. When I think of a noble lady, I think of some self-centered girl in a frilly dress. You don’t act like that at all."

“You do realize that if it hadn’t been for my magic, I might have been one of those self-centered girls, right?”

“I-I didn’t mean to offend,” Cullen said quickly. He then gave a slight groan and rubbed his eyes before he tried again.

“You clearly are a noble, but you don’t put on airs like most of them do. I meant it as a good thing.” 

“Ah, I see," Gwen said with a teasing smile. “Well, rest assured Commander. Not all noble ladies are waiting to be rescued from some horrid dragon.”

They were drawing close to the tavern and Gwen slipped her hand out from the Commander's arm and let him open the door for her. As she walked in, she made for the counter where Flissa was standing. 

"I think two ales, a bread and cheese plate with fruit, and... "

She turned back to the Commander, who was standing behind her looking uncomfortable.

He gave a small cough and said, "do you have some kind of soup?"

"We have a stew. It's made with duffalo meat, courtesy of Lady Montilyet. Or there's broth with some meat and bread on the side.

"I'll have the broth."

Frowning, Gwen wondered what ailment the Commander was suffering from. Whatever it was, it didn't stop him from working long hours. The Commander noticed her looking at him, and he gave her a stern glance, warning her not to ask. She shrugged, and headed for a table tucked in a corner. Cullen slid into the chair across from her. He still looked nervous, and wouldn’t meet her eye. 

Gwen tilted her head to meet the Commander’s eyes as she asked, “Commander, I don’t mind eating lunch with you, but people will think we’re arguing if you won’t look me in the eye.”

The Commander briefly looked up, but he just as quickly looked back down again as he said, “I... I suppose I just don’t understand why you’d agree to have lunch with me.”

Gwen frowned. She knew by now that outside his work, the Commander had less confidence in himself. But even this seemed a bit extreme.

“Well, admittedly Cassandra is a force to be reckoned with, but I'm not sure why you'd think I'd refuse to eat with you. I think we get along well enough."

The confusion on the Commander's face was as clear as day, which surprised Gwen. She didn't think there was that much tension between them. 

"I guess your definition is different than mine. I mean, half the time we're arguing over something." 

"Alright, we do argue. But I've never said I didn't like you. Or is this about what you said in the Chantry?" 

He made no response, but looked back down at his hands. But it was enough to tell Gwen that at least part of it was about what had occurred in the Chantry.

"Do we have a problem?” 

The Commander's eyes widened and he quickly shook his head as he blurted out, “No!”

A few people fell silent around them, and Cullen looked back down at his hands. Gwen, however, turned and smiled at them until they  turned away. With the attention off of him, Cullen gave a heavy sigh of relief, and began to explain.

"I'm trying to change how I think about mages. But it's easier to change how you think about a person than a group. I have no intention of ruining your alliance, but it is my job to look out for the safety of the people here. That includes the mages, and you. I hope that is enough."

"I can't say you're a shining beacon of reform, but I do see that you're trying. And I can't say I ever disliked you. It just... took me some time to trust you." 

A look of relief came over Cullen's face, and he opened his mouth to speak to her just as Flissa came to the table with their food. As she set Cullen's food down, she gave him a huge smile. 

"Good to see you, Commander. I thought you might have forgotten me."

Cullen didn't look at her or make a response. Flissa didn't seemed put off at all though. 

She simply chuckled and when she walked off there was a definite swing to her hips as she called back, “if you ever get lonely you know where to find me.”

"I think she likes you," Gwen said as she began to eat.

"I know," Cullen muttered, staring at his bowl, clearly mortified. He held the spoon in his hand, but he made no effort to start eating. Gwen resisted the urge to ask him what was wrong, and instead pressed on with their current subject. 

"And?"

Cullen gave a slight cough before he said, "she's not my type."

"Really? She's clearly trying very hard. You could at least flirt with her a little," Gwen said with a slight smile.

"I-" he paused and gave another cough. "I don't have your skill at flirting, Herald."

“Oh, so you  _ have _ noticed my flirting," Gwen teased. Cullen blushed even more, something Gwen hadn’t thought was possible. Gwen smiled as she slipped a bite of apple into her mouth. 

"You do realize that one must practice the art of flirting if one is to be any good at it, right?" 

"I- Um... Yes. But I've never... been good at talking to women that way." 

He continued to blush, but he managed to eat some of his food. Though Gwen suspected it was more to end the subject than to address his hunger. Gwen leaned back and listened to the music the minstrel was singing. It was the one she'd made up about Sera. Gwen snuck a quick looked to the young elf, who was currently snitching a knife from one of the soldiers. The sight made Gwen feel calmer than she'd felt in days. When she looked back at Cullen, there was a slight smile on his face, and despite herself, Gwen felt her face heat up. 

"Is there something on my face?" she asked, brushing her hand across her mouth. 

"What? No!" His smile faltered a little, but he still met her eyes. "I just... the way you were sitting and eating that apple, it made me think of my sister." 

He paused for a moment, another brief smile crossing his face before continuing on, "she liked apples so much that one day she climbed up a tree and got her skirt caught in a branch. I had to rescue her before the farmer came and found her." 

"Did you often have to rescue your sister?" Gwen asked, resting her head in her hand. 

A small chuckle came from Cullen and he said, "actually, it was rare that she needed my help. As the oldest, Mia always felt like she had to look after us. If I remember rightly she swore she'd kill me if I ever told anyone that she got stuck in a tree." 

"I'll be sure to keep your secret then ," Gwen said. "It would be a shame for our Commander to die at the hands of his older sister." 

"I'd appreciate it," Cullen said, and turned back to his food. He managed a few more bites before putting his spoon down again. 

"Try eating some of the broth with the bread. It might go down easier," Gwen suggested. Cullen grimaced a little, but he did as she suggested. He managed a few more bites, and he didn't look like he was swallowing something distasteful. 

"It helps. How did you know?" 

"I have some healing skills, remember. You learn a few tricks like that when you're trying to get someone to eat," Gwen said slipping another apple slice into her mouth. "Though my brother said that, when I started being a healer, I became a complete know-it-all." 

"Your brother?" 

Gwen suddenly remembered that apart from Josephine's inquiry into her family's relations, most of the advisors probably knew very little about her family. 

"Sorry, I forgot that I’d told you my family and I are not on good terms. My brother, Jared, doesn't share their opinion. He'd come and visit me at Ostwick Circle." 

She stopped for a moment a smile tugged at the edge of her mouth as a memory came back to her. 

"When he visited it was the one time I was allowed to leave the circle. He'd joke and say he was coming to rescue his princess from the tower, and he'd take me riding. One day he got a bit cocky and wanted to jump a rather high wall. He might have made it if the ground wasn’t coated in muck. Needless to say, it wasn't one of his more  _ shining  _ moments."

Cullen laughed, actually laughed. It was a a nice sound to hear from him, and she found herself chuckling a little with him. It was a strange feeling, but a good sort of strange. Cullen managed another few bites of his food. He looked back up at her.

"Does your brother know you survived the Conclave?" 

"Yes, I wrote to him shortly after I woke up. He wanted to come out here in fact." 

Cullen looked at her with surprise as he asked, "is he coming?" 

"Andraste, no! My brother is an excellent warrior, but I don't want him anywhere near here or the Breach." 

"Why not?" Cullen asked, "if he's willing to help, we could use him."

"I'm his little sister. He's always been there to get me out of trouble. He'll probably get himself killed trying to protect me." 

Gwen didn't look at Cullen as she said this. Though, out of the corner of her eye Gwen saw Cullen's eyes soften. 

"This doesn't have anything to do with what you saw in that future, does it?" 

She didn't answer right away, but instead she looked down at her plate. There were some breadcrumbs that had scattered on the table and she began making patterns with her finger. 

"Herald?"

Cullen suddenly reached out and placed his hand on hers. She started a little, but she didn't pull her hand away, instead meeting his eyes. Neither of them looked away from each other, and beneath the tight knot forming in her throat, Gwen noticed her own heart was pounding. After a moment she finally answered his question. 

"I know that if they hadn't sent me back all would have been lost. But I can't understand why Cassandra, Sera, and Leliana would sacrifice their lives for me. They barely know me"

Gwen stopped, knowing that she had gone to far, shared too much. But it felt like some kind of poison was being drawn out of her as she spoke and she couldn’t not talk about it anymore. 

“I don’t want anyone else to die for me. I’m not worth that.”

There was silence for a moment and Cullen said softly, “I think you’re worth it.”

Gwen’s head shot up, the pounding in her heart becoming a little louder and she felt butterflies in her stomach.

Cullen gave her a smile as he said, “look at what you’ve done in a few months. You’ve stabilized the Breach, helped refugees caught up in the middle of a war, stopped a Tevinter invasion, and given people hope. In my mind, that makes you worthy of admiration. And I’m sure that’s how the others feel, too.”

A warm feeling came over Gwen. They both sat there, Cullen’s hand on her’s, in silence. In the distance Gwen could hear the minstrel singing a new song, and blushed as she heard the words.

_ Templar igniting, a fire inside me. Maker remind me...  _

_ Stop it! You shouldn’t be letting yourself feel this,  _ Gwen thought stubbornly, finally pulling her hand away from Cullen. Cullen pulled his hand back too, but more slowly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- I suppose what I’m saying is... don’t doubt your worth. I know mages aren’t treated well, but that doesn’t mean you’re not worth protecting."

“I... Thank you, Cullen.”

The use of his name did not go unnoticed. There was a momentary smile from him, but it was quickly overcome by shyness. He put his spoon down and dug into his pocket for some coins.

“I should be getting back to work,” he said as he laid down the coins. Gwen straightened up, untucking her legs from under her.

“But you’ve still got half a bowl of food there.”

“To be honest Herald, I don’t have much of an appetite these days. If Cassandra gives you trouble just tell her I gave you the slip.”

Gwen raised a skeptical eyebrow as she said, “will she believe it?”

Cullen only shrugged and started heading for the door when Gwen called out again.

“Commander, you only need five coppers for your meal, not one silver.”

He briefly turned back and said, “It’s a thank you, for helping me when I was sick, and with Cassandra.”

He left before Gwen could protest. She watched him go, trying to sort through her mixed feeling for Cullen. 

Dorian was not wrong: she had feelings for Cullen, and they were stronger feelings than she had felt for anyone. That didn't mean it would lead to anything more than a dalliance, but she got the sense that wasn't what Cullen was looking for. If he was going to court someone, there probably had to be a desire to make a serious attempt at a relationship. And Gwen had never really sought a long term relationship, not even with Gregory, the only other person she’d dared to try to have a real relationship with. 

But then  again, much of that had to do with the Chantry. From a young age she’d pushed all childish fantasies of love aside. But now there was no Circle, no chantry cleric to tell her that she shouldn't fall in love. Would it be so bad to give into her feelings, to see if she could not just fall in love, but be happy?

She looked down at the Mark on her hand.

_ In truth, what is there to lose? This Mark... people say that it’s a blessing, and perhaps it is, but it’s also made me a target. Maybe I should just take a risk. _

She finished her own meal not long after Cullen left. When Flissa came by she looked a little disappointed by Cullen’s absence, and kept giving her glares. 

Gwen ignored them. Let Flissa think what she wanted; she’d certainly not made her mind up about anything. 

As she left the tavern, she made her way over towards the Chantry in order to meet up with her advisors. There was some last minute things that needed to be done, such as planning out their approach to the Breach and dealing with her family’s overuse of her new title. Gwen grimaced just at the thought and hoped that Josephine would sort that mess out without her. 

As she approached the door to the chantry, she heard Cassandra and Cullen speaking with each other.

“Part of this is taking care of yourself, Cullen,” Cassandra hissed. “If you’re not careful you could cause yourself real harm.

“I did as you asked and it was better than vomiting in a bucket later!” Cullen hissed back.

Gwen coughed, alerting them to her presence. Cassandra, like always, looked annoyed but Cullen looked relieved as Gwen made her way over to them.

“Don’t we have a meeting to attend?” She said, making her way over to them. Cassandra gave a slight snort, and looked back at Cullen.

“We’ll talk later.”

She made her way to the war room, leaving Cullen and Gwen standing alone together. 

“Perhaps you should have risked vomiting in a bucket,” Gwen said to him, watching Cassandra walked away.

“I’d prefer not to,” Cullen said wryly. He waved his arm to indicate for her to walk ahead, and Gwen made her way over to the war room. Cullen walked beside her, and when she snuck a side glance at him he gave her a shy smile. 

“I don’t you suppose you have some magic potion that will stop the vomiting?”

Despite herself, Gwen actually gave a small laugh as she said, “no, I think Adan has just as good a potion as I know.”

“That’s disappointing,” he replied. They were almost to the door when Cullen stopped, and Gwen instinctively followed suit. 

“Heral- Lady Trevelyan,” he said, “Whatever happens when we seal the Breach, I want you to know that it’s been an honor to work beside you.”

He meant it. Gwen didn’t know how she knew that, but as she looked into his eyes she could see that she wasn’t just a mage to him anymore. She was Gwen Trevelyan, a young woman from Ostwick, and someone he’d at least come to respect.

For the first time in years, Gwen felt pride fill her chest, and she didn’t feel the need to hide anymore. She reached out and gently touched his arm, and smiled up him with no restraint.

“Thank you, Cullen. It has been an honor to work beside you, too.”

 


	6. Fall of Haven Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit must be given to hotrodngold for a section of this fic.

Sweet music played in the main courtyard of Haven as the Inquisition celebrated the closing of the Breach. The feeling in the air was lighthearted, and Cullen found himself smiling more often than not as he watched the dancing from the edges of the group. A few people had come up to ask him to dance, but he’d turned them down, partly because he honestly didn’t know how to, and partly because they weren’t Gwen.

Even now, his eyes traveled to her, standing on the raised platform, watching them. Unlike them, however, she did not seem to be enjoying herself.

He knew why.

When she’d returned from the Breach, Cullen had been so relieved that he’d almost hugged her. It was clear that something was bothering her as she and Cassandra reported that their venture had been successful. Even Solas agreed that the danger had passed, but Gwen still didn’t look at ease.

No one else seemed to pick up on the Herald’s mood. They had all been distracted by Josephine’s declaration that there should be a celebration.

While the group had begun to disperse, Cullen stayed behind to speak with Gwen.

_“Are you alright, Lady Trevelyan?”_

Gwen had looked up at him in surprise, and had shook her head slightly.

_“I don’t know. This all feels… too easy. With all of the talk about this Elder One, I half expected some resistance at the Breach. But there’s been nothing.”_

_“You suspect an attack?”_

_“No. Yes. I’m not sure what I expect.”_

Her brow had furrowed with frustration as she tried to figure out how to explain it. Finally, she’d just sighed in frustration and brushed her hair out of her face.

 _“Are there still scouts patrolling the area?”_ she’d asked.

 _“Some, but Leliana pulled most of them back to enjoy the festivities,”_ Cullen replied, wondering where she was going with this.  

_“I guess, we’ll have to rely on the ones still out there. Maker, I wish I could get rid of this paranoia.”_

Cullen had reached out and put a comforting hand on her shoulder with a reassuring smile.

_“I’ll speak with Leliana and see what we can do. If there is something out there, we’ll at least know before it reaches Haven's gates.”_

Her mouth had twitched into a smile, but worry kept it from becoming a full one. She’d thanked him, and made her way to the main gates where she’d met Dorian. Cullen had bit back a scowl when she’d hugged Dorian.

He’d tried to remind himself that Gwen was her own woman, and given how much he’d seen her flirt around Haven, he shouldn’t have expected that she’d reserve it just for him. But he didn’t like how friendly she was with Dorian. Of all the people of her inner group, Dorian was the one she was the most familiar with and that she actually took every opportunity to flirt with. And what made it worse was that Cullen didn’t think Dorian wanted anything at all from Gwen. It was just for sport for him.

How did she not see that?

Even just the memory of it made his blood boil. He chanced a glance at Dorian and saw him surrounded by and laughing with a bunch of soldiers. It was amazing how easily Dorian was able to draw a crowd wherever he went, despite his ridiculous dress and makeup. Why was Gwen attracted to him?

“Something eating at you, Commander?”

Cullen started and turned to see the Iron Bull standing beside him, a huge tankard of something in his hand.

“Nothing,” Cullen replied, looking back at Gwen. She’d been joined by Cassandra and the two were talking animatedly.

“You know, you might actually get somewhere if you ask her to dance,” the Iron Bull said.

Cullen blushed. Did the whole of Haven knew about his feelings for Gwen.

“I don’t dance,” Cullen replied, looking down at his feet.

“What, not even a reel? I promise it’s about as complicated as swordplay.”

“With those big feet? I shudder to think what dancing with you would be like.”

“Is that an invitation?” the Iron Bull asked.

“What? No, it was a joke,” Cullen stammered out. Bull laughed and took another gulp of his drink. He offered it to Cullen, but he shook his head. If Gwen was right and something _did_ attack, he needed to have a clear head.

The Iron Bull seemed to have no reserves however, and took another huge swig.

“Don’t worry, Commander.You didnt hurt my feelings. But seriously, if—”

The Chantry’s warning bell sounded, cutting him off.. Cullen ran for the gates, calling the soldiers to arms.

A lone watchguard was waiting just inside the closing gates as he approached, one with dire news.

“Cullen?” Cassandra called, Gwen, Iron Bull, and Dorian following behind her.

“One watchguard made it ahead of the force, reporting a massive army approaching, the bulk of which is still over the mountain.”

“Under what banner?” Josephine asked, approaching from his other side.

“None.”

“ _None_?” she echoed, astonished.

Cullen paid more attention to where Gwen was cautiously approaching the closed gates. Half a moment later, he was spared having to respond by two shuttering explosions, the force of which rattled the gates on their hinges.

“We can’t come in unless you open!” called a voice on the other side.

“We...?” Cullen started, before quickly giving the order to raise the crossbar and let them in.

The gates swung open onto a strange sight. A boy in patchwork clothes (and a ridiculous hat, Cullen thought) stood before two dozen templars and around half as many corpses. The bodies on the ground were grotesque, distorted, with red lyrium grown into their skin.

The templars standing weren’t much better, men carried on stretchers and others supported by their brethren with an arm about their waist. A man in Knight-Captain’s armor stood next to the boy, his unsheathed blade bloodied, his shield lost somewhere along the run to them.

“I’m Knight-Captain Barris,” he introduced himself.

“I’m Cole,” the boy continued. “We came to warn you. To help. People are coming to hurt you. You... probably already know.”

“What is going on?” Gwen demanded.

“The red templars come to kill you.”

“Templars?” Cullen exclaimed. “Is this the Order’s response to our talks with the mages?

“Attacking blindly?” he concluded, eyes demanding an explanation from the templars present. Behind him, he could hear arrows being notched and bows being drawn.

“Not us, ser,” Barris explained. “The red templars aligned with the Elder One.”

“You know him? He knows you,” Cole explained. He looked straight at Gwen, “You took his mages.”

The boy turned, pointing at a distant outcropping.

“There.”

Upon the hill, a figure in red armor, clutching a massive Tevinter-style sawblade.

“I... know that man,” Cullen said, hardly believing his eyes.

He turned to the boy, “But this Elder One...”

“He’s very angry,” Cole agreed. “that you took his mages.”

“Commander, give me a plan!” Gwen asked, her eyes desperate. “Anything!”

“Haven’s no fortress,” Cullen said, apologetic and grim. “If we are to withstand this monster, we _must_ control the battle.”

“Get out there at hit that force,” he continued, “Use everything you can.”

“And the templars?” Gwen asked, gesturing to the ones clustered at their gate.

“I will vouch for them, Herald,” he assured her. “Go.”

“Mages!” he called, spinning about and drawing his sword. He spared one last look at Gwen as she gathered her party and left, praying, _dear Andraste, be with her_.

“You—You have sanction to engage them! That is Samson, an ex-templar and a fierce fighter. He will not make it easy!”

“Inquisition! With the Herald!” he put as much determination and will into the rally as he could. “For your lives! For all of us!”

The roar behind him was nearly deafening, but they had heard him. They would fight to their best.

In the meantime...

“Ser Barris, you should see your men to Haven’s chantry. We will set up triage there,” he said, nodding to the Knight-Captain.

“Thank you, Ser Cullen,” Barris said. “But we have a few able-bodied left, and I would like to help. It’s what we came here for.”

Cullen shook his head.

“As much as I would appreciate your assistance guarding the town, we won’t weather this. Haven was not built to withstand half the force bearing down on us.

“No,” Cullen concluded. “I would rather save your strength, the Angel of Death up our sleeves, as it were.”

The Knight-Captain bowed his head, “We are yours to command.”

Cullen eyed the approaching fires of war as the templars cleared the gates, and the first battlefield scouts approached. He knew they wouldn’t be able to hold Haven, not like this, but he would be damned if they didn’t put up a fight.

* * *

 

The roar of the dragon was deafening, and Cullen winced with the teeth-grinding pain of it. He was nearly cut down by a red templar in his distracted state. Luckily, he raised his shield just in time and thrust his own blade into the templars abdomen. As the red templar fell Cullen had to stop himself from thinking about how he might have known the man, any of these men and women.

Ever since the first ringing of the bells, Cullen had waded into a nightmare. The Order he’d grown up admiring was now a legions of monsters. He’d know that the Order had fallen, but never had he consider it had fallen this far.

He didn’t have long to dwell, as the dragon  came swooping down towards them. It's mouth opened to send another blast of red power. Behind him, over half their army was in the way of that attack.

“Inquisition templars, to me!”

A few templars came to his aid. Turning his blade down, Cullen muttered a silent prayer that this would work.  He still had his abilities as a templar, but they were greatly weakened without the aid of lyrium. He watched as the dragon swooped down, waiting for just the right moment.

“Now!” Cullen called as the red light formed around the dragon’s mouth. He thrust his sword into the ground putting all his strength into the smite. His body shook with the effort, but he didn’t dare stop.

Wings flapped above him and Cullen opened his eyes as he heard his soldier’s cry out behind him. Thankfully, the screaming was caused by the few unlucky soldiers who had been caught in the dragon’s claws. Those directly in it’s path had been protected by Cullen’s desperate gamble.

As he stood, Cullen stumbled and one of the templars, Rylan, caught him.

“We can’t stay out here!” Rylan shouted above the noise of battle. “We’ve lost this, Commander.”

“Get to the gate!” Cullen called out, pointing to the the walls of Haven. Rhylan nodded and repeated the order, and the Inquisition soldiers began to retreat.

Cullen stopped when he reached the gate, exhaustion trying to take him over. He forced himself to run to Leliana who was shooting down red templars trying to scale  Haven’s walls.

“Where’s the Herald?”  

Leliana didn’t stop firing as she called out, “She was helping Hamlin, the smithy. She’s coming.”

Cullen shoved down his fear; Gwen could look out for herself. He turned to see the dragon swooping down again, grabbing at a few straggling soldiers. He looked away to see Leliana giving him a worried glance.

“Cullen, do you think–?”

“We can’t think about that right now. Just get back to the Chantry!”

“Alright, I’ll meet you there once you’ve found the Herald,” she said and took off.

Cullen remained by the door, helping herd the survivors, watching for Gwen and the others. _Where was she?_

She came, running up the path, her face white with terror. She ducked as the dragon tried to grab her, and Cullen felt his heart in his throat.

“Come on! You can make it!”

Gwen got up and ran to the gates, Cassandra, Iron Bull, and Dorian following her. The dragon glided around again and headed right for her.

“Come on!” he shouted.

They dashed inside and Cullen slammed the gate shut. He heard something thud against the door and he looked over to see Gwen bracing the other door with a handful of soldiers. The doors held, and for a few seconds, they stood side-by-side, panting. He met her eyes and they shared a nervous laugh, a moment of camaraderie.

The relief was short lived though. Already Cullen could hear the red templars trying to get over the walls.

“Everyone fall back to the Chantry! It’s the only building that will hold up against that- that _thing_!”

He turned back to Gwen and helplessly he said, “At this point, just make them work for it.”

Gwen nodded and they dashed up the stairs together. As they approached the second level, they met a hoard of templars rushing forward. Cullen drew his sword and sliced down, cutting the throat of  the nearest templar as Gwen sent an electric current through the air.

"Protect the innocent!" a woman's voice called out, and Cullen turned to see Lynette being overwhelmed by at least a dozen red templars. Dorian threw a fireball at a nearby templar and Gwen cast another electric spell that pulled the templars to the center of a circle, keeping them at bay. She rushed over to help Lynette, and called, "Get back to the Chantry; we'll meet you there!"

Cullen was about to protest but paused. Gwen was right; he needed to get back and delegate, see if there was anything that could be done to save the people of Haven. He ran up the steps and didn’t look back.

When he arrived at the Chantry, the door was sealed and there was a horde of people standing outside the door.

"Makers balls," Cullen cursed and ran up to the crowd where he found Leliana. "What's going on?"

"The Chancellor has closed the doors, he seems to think that there is no hope for us."

"Maker take the man. Is Josephine in there?"

"Yes, but I don't know–"

Cullen didn't even wait to hear what she had to say. Instead he pushed through the crowd until he reach the door and banged on it.

"Chancellor Roderick! Open this door, there are people out here!"

The dragon flew over again, Cullen looked back to see that it was distracted elsewhere. He banged on the door again calling out loudly for Josephine.

 _Andraste curse him if he leaves us all to die,_ Cullen thought angrily.

He should have known that spineless priest would pull something like this.

Cullen looked around to see if there was something he could use to break down the door. He wasn’t very hopeful, but right now they had a choice between bashing down the door with their hands or burning alive.

And Cullen knew he didn’t want to be burned alive.

That was an experience he never wanted to relive, illusion or not.

Suddenly there was a loud thud, and Cullen fell back as the doors swung open. Both Josephine and Chancellor Roderick stood on the inside.

“About time!” Cullen said, standing back to allow everyone else in. “Get anyone who can’t fight to the back of the Chantry.”

“Commander, you must realize we’re doomed,” Roderick said, his voice hoarse.

Cullen shoved him against the wall.

“So you leave everyone else outside to die?! You almost killed half the people in Haven!”

Roderick looked away, ashamed,. It disgusted him, but he didn’t have time to berate the man.

“ _I want to believe, but so much evil. Is she the Herald? Or is it another trick? I want to believe but I cannot feel the song like I once did.”_

Cullen jumped as Cole appeared beside him.

“Where in the void did you come from?”

Cole looked confused and said, “I’ve always been here.”

Almost everyone had made it inside when a horde of red templars appeared in front of them. Cullen pushed Josephine behind him, raising his shield to deflect an overhand blow. He was pinned between red templars and the refugees still trying to get inside the Chantry when Roderick stepped forward, in between a templar and a young father and his child.

“Stop this madness! Do you think you’re doing the Maker’s work?” he implored.

It happened so quickly Cullen didn’t have time to draw breath to call out. One moment the Chancellor was standing between the red templar and the father, the next he was smashed against the wall, groaning. Cullen tried to maneuver himself so he could attack instead of defend, but people were pouring in, trying to avoid the red templars.

Suddenly, Cole appeared before him and killed three red templars, finally allowing Cullen enough room to cut down the remaining.

Quickly, he pulled the Chancellor out of the way, ordering him to “stay put” before plunging back into the melee.

Bashing and cutting left and right, Cullen worked with the Inquisition soldiers to help the refugees get into the Chantry safely. There were several injured, but nothing could be done right now, they had to get the doors to the Chantry shut.

Finally, there was enough of a reprieve that Cullen, Rylan, and a few other soldiers grabbed one of the doors and pulled it shut. They were about to do the same with the other door, but Cullen signaled for them to stop.

“We must wait for the Herald,” Cullen said.

Maker, he was getting tired, but he could not falter. He had to leave the way open for Gwen and the others. A few templars tried to get in, but with Rylan’s help, they managed to keep them back.

In the distance, he could hear fire and lightning being cast and looked over in time to see Gwen, Cassandra, the Iron Bull, and Dorian fighting off red templars.

“Herald! Get in here!” he called to her.

Gwen turned, and then called out to the others and rushed for the door. The last stragglers came running in, and Chancellor Roderick staggered up.

“Everyone inside, the Chantry is your shelter!”

 _You weren’t so welcoming a moment ago,_ Cullen thought darkly, but didn’t say anything. Instead he fought to keep back any red templars that attempted to enter the chantry while Gwen and the others rushed in.

They ran in just as the dragon was approaching, and Cullen and two other soldiers slammed the door shut. Outside, they could hear the roar of the dragon. Roderick staggered in a few steps and was about to fall when Cole caught him.

Gwen, who was watching, leaned forward to help when the boy began to speak, but Cullen was too far to hear what they said. Though judging by the look of sadness on her face, it was not good. Cullen ran over to her. As much as he wanted to let her be, he knew they needed to act fast if they were to do anything about this disaster.

“Herald, our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us.”

The boy, Cole, he remembered, spoke up again. “I’ve seen an archdemon. It was in the fade but it looked like that.”

Cullen was trying hard not to lose his temper, but his patience was wearing thin.

“I don’t care what it looks like! It’s cut a path for that army. They’ll kill everyone in Haven.”

“The Elder One doesn’t care about the village,” Cole said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “He only want the Herald.”

“Oh, really?” Gwen said sarcastically.

“If you know why he wants me then just say it,” she said a little softer.

Cullen couldn’t tell what Gwen was thinking at that moment, but she seemed more frustrated than scared.

“I don’t,” Cole said. “He’s too loud. It hurts to hear him. He wants to kill you. No one else matters, but he’ll crush them, kill them anyway. I don’t like him.”

“You don’t like‒,” Cullen began. It was pointless to argue with the boy, he needed to focus on the battle. He turned to Gwen.

“Let me go back out there,” she said bluntly. “If it’s me they want then maybe I can buy everyone else some time.”

“Herald, there are no tactics to make this survivable. The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche. We could turn the remaining trebuchets, cause one last slide.”

It wasn’t a good plan, but it was the only one he could think of in that moment. Gwen, however, didn’t look happy with the plan, her brow furrowing with anger.

“You’re joking right? If we do that, we’ll bury Haven.”

She wasn't wrong, but Cullen knew that the alternative could be worse than being buried alive in rubble. He gave Gwen a meaningful look, hoping she'd understand.

"We're dying, but we can choose how. Many don't get that choice."

“I’m not giving up just yet. There has to be a way to at least get the refugees out of here,” Gwen said crossing her arms. Cullen prepared to argue with her, but Cole spoke up before he could say anything.

"Yes. Chancellor Roderick can help. He wants to say it before he dies."

Both Gwen and Cullen turned to Rodrick. The cleric pushed himself up and said, “There is a path.”

Cullen and Gwen both listened as Rodrick described the path of the summer pilgrimage. It was a slim chance, but it might be exactly what they needed to get the refugees out of there. He glanced at Gwen, and she turned to look at him.

“What about it, Cullen? Will it work?”

“Possibly,” he shrugged. “ _If_ he shows us the path.”

“Then take him and get the people out of here. The Iron Bull, Cassandra, Dorian, and I will stay behind to give you time.”

It took a great deal of effort for Cullen not to burst out with an abrupt _no!_ But somehow, he managed to keep his voice steady as he next spoke.

“Alright, but what of your escape?”

She didn’t even look at him, but he didn’t need her to. There was no way that she could return from this. They were over run, and it was just a matter of time before the red templars would begin breaking down the door.

But Gwen had survived the odds before, there was a chance.

“Perhaps you will surprise it, find a way,” he said hopefully.

Gwen tried to give him a hopeful smile, but it turned into more of a grimace.

“Perhaps I will. I survived the Fade after all.”

There was none of the familiar sarcasm in Gwen’s voice as she said this. Cullen realized that there was no point in trying to force it. She had to do this, yes; no one else could. But why did it have to be the first woman he’d come to care for in years?

Turning, Cullen sent off two Inquisition soldiers to load the trebuchets, before he made his way back over to Gwen. She was watching them leave, resigned. When he approached her, that determination that'd become so familiar in her was there.

He pointed after the guards as he said, "They'll load the trebuchets so you can turn them."

Gwen only nodded, arms crossed over her chest. She was about to turn and leave when Cullen spoke up again.

"If we are to have a chance—if you are to have a chance, let that thing hear you."

She looked back at him, and a sad smile crossed her face. He stood there, trying to think of something to say, to give her some idea of what she meant to him. But no words seemed to come to him.

To his surprise though, she walked towards him, reached up, and gently kissed him on the cheek.

It was an innocent enough kiss, one that siblings might share. But Cullen’s heart pounded and he almost reached up to grab her so he could kiss her on the lips.

She stepped back before he could.

"You're a good man, Commander,” she said softly, “I'm glad to have stood by your side."

“Gwen...”

It was the first time he had ever used her name, and it hung between them, waiting for him to say what he had been holding back for months.

Gwen stood there, waiting, but the words remained unsaid. She gave him a smile, a little more confident than the last one.

“Wish me luck.”

She turned and ran to catch up with the rest of her party, leaving him to watch her go.


	7. Fall of Haven Part 2

As soon as the doors to the Chantry were shut, Cullen turned and focused on the immediate problem: he had to get everyone out of Haven. He rushed to the Chantry basement, where Cole and Roderick stood next to a passage that had been hidden away.

Pushing his way through the throng, Cullen found a stool at the front to boost himself above it.

“Listen, everyone!” he called out, and the noise quieted.

“The Herald and a small band of her people are doing what they can to slow the red templars. You are to follow this boy and priest along this passage as quickly as possible. Leliana and Josephine will be at the front, with soldiers spread out along the edges in case of an attack. Do not separate! If you are lost in the passage or in the mountains I cannot guarantee that we will have time to find you.”

There were nervous mutterings, but Cullen knew that it was best to get them moving. The more time they had to dwell, the more likelihood they would begin to panic. He gave a nod to Roderick, who responded with one of his own and called out for the group to follow.

Leliana paused beside him as the others pressed on.

“What about you, Commander?”

“I’ll cover the back. I need to send the signal when we get above the tree-line.”

“I know, but…” she said,

“We can’t have the red templars following us. The Herald is going to see to that once the people of Haven are safe,” Cullen said determinedly. He mentally begged Leliana to leave it, and she nodded and disappeared down the passage.

Refugees and Inquisition forces quickly funneled through the passage while Cullen and several soldiers remained near the main Chantry hallway. For several minutes, there was only the scuffling sound of peasants and armor behind him, and Cullen took it as a good sign that Gwen had gotten through.

Then the pounding came.

Cullen drew his sword and glanced at the line in the back of the hall. It was much smaller, but there were still a lot of people waiting to go in. Cullen prayed to the Maker that the doors would hold.

“If they break through, shut the passageway. We cannot allow the red templars to follow.”

“What about the Herald?” a soldier asked.

“I’ve left instructions for Cassandra on how to get through, but we cannot let the enemy follow.”

They did not look happy, but neither did they argue.

The red templars continued to pound at the gate, but the age-old gate stood strong. Glancing back one more time, most people had cleared the tunnel and he began to retreat.

“Into the tunnel, now!”

The soldiers didn’t hesitate, only pausing to help Cullen seal the passage behind them. As soon as they’d finished, Cullen turned and followed the torchlight, grateful that someone had thought to bring some. He only prayed that Leliana and Josephine would make sure to put them out when they exited the tunnel.

It felt like they wandered through darkness for an age, but finally the black of the passage lightened and the air grew colder. They stumbled out into the cold open air, the vast majority of the refugees huddled together, waiting.

They were well above the treeline now, safe from the avalanche’s path. He couldn’t have planned it better himself. He grabbed one of the nearby soldiers.

“Get up to the front of the group and tell Leliana to take everyone up into the mountains. We must get as far away as possible.”

“Yes, ser!” the soldier said. Cullen was about to let him go, when something else occurred to him.

“May I use that bow?”

The woman looked surprised, but handed over the long bow to Cullen. Cullen nodded in thanks and called out to the group.

“Who has signal arrows?”

“I do.”

Ser Barris had answered. Taking the arrow Barris held out to him, he notched it and held it out for Barris to light.

Barris held out a torch and Cullen was about to light it when Barris stepped closer to the edge, the torch dipping as his attention waned.

“Andraste preserve us!”

Cullen turned. Haven was alight, but three figures circled each other by the trebuchet. One was clearly the dragon, while the other two…

Stepping closer, Cullen saw one fall to the ground, bright green light shining around them.

It had to be Gwen.

But where were the others? The other figure, much taller than her, was enveloped in red as he watched, an arm outstretched towards Gwen.

Heart in his throat, Cullen watched as this figure advanced towards Gwen. They lifted her up.

Helplessly, Cullen watched as Gwen dangled there, facing what he could only guess was this Elder One alone.

The Elder One threw Gwen, and Cullen shouted “no!” as she hit the trebuchet. Barris shot him a look.

“Ser, the longer we wait, the greater chance we’ll be followed. You need to signal the Herald..”

“We can’t! Not yet! She wouldn’t see it,” Cullen said.

 _Come on Gwen, get up!_ he thought, watching her lay against the trebuchet.

For several moments nothing happened, and he saw the green light move.

She was alive.

“Give me the torch, now!”

Lighting the arrow, Cullen aimed it as far as he could, and let it loose.

As it sored through the air, Cullen turned his attention back to Haven, his gaze searching frantically for the green light that would be Gwen. He saw the light, facing the dragon and the Elder One, but there was no sign of movement from the trebuchet. What was she waiting for?

It moved. Cullen couldn’t see much more than the swing of the trebuchet, but a few moments later, he heard a faint roar, and the mountain began to slide. The dragon did not waste time, but flew up into the air. The red lighted figure was gone, but the green was still there.

Andraste, she was running.

There was no way she could outrun the avalanche, but still Cullen held his breath as he watched. He saw her leap up into the air just as the landslide hit the trebuchet, burying it. And the light was gone.

“She’s gone…” Ser Barris said, his voice echoing the hollowness in Cullen’s chest. Yes, she was gone. There was no way she could survive that.

“Here it is, the exit!” came Cassandra’s voice.

Turning, Cullen saw Cassandra, the Iron Bull, and Dorian come rushing out of the tunnel. They paused briefly, trying to catch their breath when Cassandra finally looked up. Her eyes widened with panic and she staggered forward to him.

“Cullen, what are you doing? You need to run—”

“Why did you leave her there!” he snarled, taking hold of Cassandra’s arm.

Cassandra glared at him and yanked her arm away from him.

“Do you really think this is the time for this? We must run before the red templars—”

“Haven is buried. The Herald managed to fire the trebuchet, but she was left to face that Archdemon and the Elder One alone.”

“What?” Cassandra said blankly.

Cullen pointed to the ridge that offered the best view of Haven. All three of them walked over to it and stared. After a while, Cassandra finally found her voice.

“The Archdemon came charging at us before we could fire. She told us to run… By the time we realized that she hadn’t followed, it was too late.”

“We didn’t want to leave her,” Dorian said. “But it was either rush here as fast as we could and warn you, or die trying to get back to her. We… we…”

Dorian suddenly straightened up and turned away. He didn’t look at anyone as he made his way towards the larger group just ahead. The Iron Bull still stood at the ridge, but he turned as Dorian departed, watching him make his way toward the huddled survivors.

Cullen stood there, glaring at Cassandra. He had a feeling the Iron Bull was listening, but he didn’t care. The others he could understand, but Cassandra… she had been the leader of this group. Why hadn’t she taken more care with Gwen’s life?

“I’m sorry,” she said. “She was a good woman, and… I’m sorry.”

He looked away from her, knowing that anything he said to her right now would only be harsh and angry. This was more painful when Amell had been sent away to the Wardens. Or watching his first love, Analise…

“Maybe she survived the avalanche,” Ser Barris said, his gaze still fixed on the place where Gwen had vanished.

“Ser Barris, even as a mage, she couldn’t keep that mountain from crushing her,” Cassandra said wearily, her hand brushing across her eyes.

She was crying, Cullen realized. He hadn’t realized that Gwen meant that much to her. He averted his eyes; this wasn’t something he was used to seeing from Cassandra.

“No, listen,” Barris said urgently. “The Herald jumped just before the landslide hit her. It’s possible that she saw some cover, and tried to make for it.”

“We saw nothing like that around there!” Cassandra said harshly.

“Enough,” Cullen said.

“She did jump. And while I don’t think it’s possible, I will set a watch for her, just in case,” he said.

“Cullen, you can’t possibly think-”

“You believe that she’s the Herald of Andraste, do you not?” Cullen demanded. “If that’s the case, maybe she did survive. In the meantime, we’re falling behind.”

He turned and headed after the refugees and what remained of the Inquisition's forces. Most of them were alive because of Gwen.

The Iron Bull walked ahead, still silent. Cullen wondered if this was his way of mourning.

_Gwen…_

Shaking his head, Cullen put her from his mind as they caught up with the group. There was too much to do.

 

* * *

 

 

It had been too much to hope that the mages would have taken the moral high ground and not mentioned the red templars. Now that they had stopped, the mages were bickering with the templars again.

“If we ever needed more proof that the templars are corrupt, we have it,” said the elven mage Cullen had come to despise over the long months at Haven. “They have been claiming for centuries that we are the dangerous ones, but now it seems that they are just as dangerous!”

There was a clamor from the mages, and some of the refugees and soldiers joined in. Unfortunately, Mark had made the ill advised choice to retaliate.

“So what? Are you going to attack us all on sight? Many of us joined before the Herald even went to Val Royeaux. You cannot claim that we are all responsible.”

“Why not?” said the elf, and it took all Cullen’s will to not throttle him for stirring up trouble. “It’s what you’ve done for centuries.”

There was an uproar, and Cullen suddenly found himself dashing into the middle of the group with Cassandra.

“That’s enough!” she said, shoving back the elven mage, while Cullen held back a templar who had his sword half drawn from his sheath. “You are all here because you were recruited into the Inquisition to stop the chaos that sprung out of the War. If we fight amongst ourselves the enemy has already won.”

“How can we win without the Herald?” a woman called out. She held a child in her arms who looked half frozen. “If Andraste let her fall, how can we stop them?”

“By regrouping and building up from the ashes,” Cassandra replied. “We are still the Inquisition.”

Her words were not having the desired effect. Already people were looking away, clearly having lost hope. Cullen knew that they had to get their minds off the fact that they were lost in the mountains, but he also had to deal with the mages and the templars at each other’s throats. Already, he could see that the two groups were getting ready to start attacking each other again. He called out quickly before either group could speak.

“Ser Barris and Grand Enchanter Fiona, if you would come here please!”

Two figures stood up on either side and made their way towards him. They eyed each other warily but only Fiona spoke.

“Yes, Commander?”

“I need both your assurances that you can keep your groups under control. We have to start setting up camp or else we’ll be caught in the middle of a blizzard.”

He pointed up the northern range where dark clouds were gathering.

“I expect that both groups will assist in the best way they can, whether it’s by setting wards, healing, walking patrols, or hunting. Can I trust you do that?” he asked.

“I can expect my people to work with the templars that came with you, Commander, or before the attack on Haven, but what of this group that came just before the Elder One? What proof do we have that they are who they say?”

“The red templars tried to kill us all, the ones that hadn’t had our rations substituted for red lyrium,” Barris said. “We only escaped because that boy, Cole, came to warn us.”

“So you claim,” Fiona replied icily. “But what proof do you have?”

“Enough!” Cullen said. “Neither group is innocent here.”

He pointed at Fiona, with a hard look as he said, “If it was not for the Herald, you would still be indentured to a Magister!

“And you,” he said, turning to the Knight-Captain. “You may not be red templars, but you’re not innocent either; I know you spoke up at Val Royeaux when the Herald visited. Had you stood your ground, more of your brothers and sisters might be here.”

Both groups looked away, ashamed.

“We are all that’s left of the Inquisition, and if we are to survive this you must set aside this blighted war and work together. As for the Herald...”

He turned to the rest of the refugees and the armies and spoke loudly so they could hear, “The Herald gave her life so we could escape Haven. We owe it to her to see that we do not waste the time she gave us. We are the only ones that stand in the way of this Elder One’s plan. We are the only ones who can stop him. So I suggest that we stop fighting amongst ourselves start working together.”

Leliana stepped forward and spoke up, “My scouts have found a good area to start hunting for food. We saw traces of rabbits, squirrel, and rams.”

He turned to the mages, “Those of you that are healers and have the strength, start setting up an area to tend to the wounded. The rest of you, start setting up wards to warn of any approaching danger.”

“Commander, if I might make a suggestion,” Ser Barris said, stepping forward.

Cullen nodded.

“There are wolves up in these mountains, and perhaps other wild animals. The templars that aren’t wounded should go with the mages to ensure they are not hurt.”

“Or to slit our throats,” the elven mage grumbled.

Cullen was about to strangle the man, but Fiona spoke up first.

“If Ser Barris wishes to aid the mages, we would welcome his help. And if there are some among your group who need healing, we would be willing to see to them.”

“But First Enchanter,” the elf said. Cassandra cut him off.

“Nelven, is it? I don’t want to hear another word from your mouth for the rest of the day. Is that understood?”

The elf looked shocked, but at a glance from Fiona, he backed down.

“If some of the templars feel like they can be civil toward the mages, they can keep watch while the mages set wards. I would also like it if the Bull’s Chargers and a few scouts took up on that offer too,” Cullen continued.

“My boys can handle it,” the Iron Bull said.

Cullen nodded in agreement.

“The rest of the templars and refugees that are able should go with Cassandra and Josephine and start setting up camp.”

Everyone nodded and dispersed.

Cullen gave a sigh of relief. It seemed like he’d gotten both groups to focus on their survival.

Assured that the mages and templars weren’t about to start tearing the camp apart, he approached the Iron Bull.

“May I have a word,” he asked softly. The Iron Bull nodded and followed Cullen a ways away from the main group.

“I was wondering if you could do something for me,” he said softly so no one else would hear.

“What do you have in mind?”

“I was wondering if the Chargers might keep an eye out for Lady Trevelyan. I know it’s a long shot, but Barris was right: she did jump before the avalanche hit her. She might have survived.”

The Iron Bull gave him a skeptical look as he said, “I didn’t take you to be one who actually believed her to be the Herald, Commander.”

“I don’t- I mean, I do believe in the Maker, but I don’t know that I’m convinced that Gwen was sent by Andraste. But Gwen’s not stupid, and she’s resourceful. If she saw a way to escape the avalanche, she would have taken it.”

“Cullen, if you really want me to do this, I’ll start looking myself. But this does seem a little desperate.”

“You heard the crowd; without Lady Trevelyan, there’s a good chance people will start abandoning the Inquisition. We’ll try to find another way to keep them together, but if there’s a chance that she’s still alive, I want to make sure she has a good chance of finding us.”

Sighing, the Iron Bull tapped his belt, thinking.

“Alright, I’ll tell the boys to keep an eye out for any sign of stragglers, but don’t put your hopes on this. Even if she did find a place to hide, if she was wounded or knocked out, it’s quite possible she won’t last the day.”

“Thank you,” Cullen said, unable to hide the relief in his voice. “That’s all I ask.”

“And next time, if there’s a girl you like, maybe don’t waste time wondering if she likes you. Ask her out. People dig that sort of thing.”

Cullen flushed, but the Iron Bull walked away before he could come up with a retort. Grumbling, Cullen made his way to towards the camp.

As he helped carry the wounded men and women towards the rapidly erected tents, Cassandra found him.

“I thought you were helping put up the tents,” he said as he laid a young soldier on a cot.

“They can stand a few moments without me,” Cassandra said with a scowl. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Cullen gave a sigh. He wasn’t sure he wanted to talk to Cassandra at that particular moment, but he could tell that she was anxious to get whatever it was off her chest.

“Alright, what is it?”

“You were right,” she said. “I shouldn’t have left the Herald behind. She was the one thing holding us together, and we lost her.”

“That’s not why I was angry,” Cullen said, but Cassandra gave him a disbelieving look.

“I mean, yes I was angry that you left her,” Cullen amended. “But not for the reasons you think. I watched as a young woman, who should never have been put into that situation, face a monster alone.”

“Do you think I wouldn’t have stood by her side, given the choice?” Cassandra said. “We were cut off, Cullen. I had to make a choice and I made it. I thought that the red templars were about to come charging down that passageway, and we had to warn you.”

“Then why didn’t you make sure she was by your side?”

“For the exact same reason you didn’t follow her out of the Chantry; because I had a duty to the Inquisition.”

Finally, Cassandra tried to speak again.

“Cullen, I know that she had become important to-”

“Don’t,” he said, his hands raised. “Just don’t. She’s gone, and there’s no point dwelling on it.”

He walked past her, heading for another soldier. In all his years of disappointments and betrayals, if there was one thing that never failed him, it was his work. And right then , he needed to focus on that.

 

* * *

 

 

With the camp set up, Cullen soon found himself with little to do.

He didn’t like that.

He’d never liked being idle. It left him time to think about the pain he was in and how much he wanted lyrium. And yet, there was little to do until the Inquisition could decide on a course of action. The problem was that what they really needed was someplace to rebuild, and Cullen couldn’t think of a place that could hold them all that wasn’t at least a week’s walk away.

Sighing, he was about go and find Cassandra again when he saw Dorian wandering off. He wouldn’t have noted it, if it wasn’t for the fact that he was clearly making for the tree line, and the wards had been set some time ago.

Leaving the camp, Cullen made his way after Dorian. He wasn’t sure what he was going to find; it could have been simply a desire to be alone for a breath, but Dorian was certainly acting suspiciously.

It was a few minutes before he found Dorian, his back to him, his arm resting against a tree and his head between his shoulders. Even though Cullen couldn’t see what the mage was doing, he was fairly certain that he’d just stumbled on something private.

Cullen was about to back away, but his foot snapped a branch under his foot. Dorian spun around, his staff raised for an attack. Quickly, Cullen stepped forward, his arms raised.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said carefully.

“Oh,” Dorian replied, relaxing. His hand brushed across his eyes before he offered up a brittle smile. He’d been crying, Cullen realized. At first he wondered why, but he remembered what Dorian on the cliff above the treeline, looking down at Haven. He’d been so upset that he couldn’t even finish a sentence.

 _He’s mourning Gwen_ , he realized.

“I was just coming out to get some bracing mountain air. Everyone says it’s-,”

“Dorian,” Cullen said firmly. “Stop. I miss her too.”

At first it seemed like Dorian was going to wave it away, but all too quickly the mask began to crack. He covered his face with a hand, trying to hide his tears, but Cullen reached out and caught his arm, pulled Dorian into an embrace.

Dorian didn’t try to fight. He leaned his head into Cullen’s shoulder and soon Cullen could feel him shaking with tears.

“I should have gone back for her,” Cullen heard him say. “I should have gone back.”

If there was ever any doubt that Cullen had about how much Dorian cared for Gwen, it was dashed right there. It was even possible that Dorian cared for her more than him.

The thought hurt, but Cullen swallowed his pride. This wasn’t about him, it was about Dorian. It was about keeping up the morale of the men he commanded.

Grateful that Dorian could not see his face, Cullen looked up at the sky and said, “I wish I had gone back for her, too.”


	8. I Found You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day early so no one thinks that it's an April Fools day joke

It was late into the night, and Cullen stood at the edge of the camp, watching for Gwen. He knew that it was stupid, the likelihood that she even survived that landslide was less than slim. But still he stood there, waiting, hoping that she might have pulled off just one more miracle.

Behind him he heard the sound of crunching footsteps, and Cullen turned to see Cassandra approaching him, a blanket in her hand.

“You’re going to freeze if you stay out here much longer.”

“I’m not cold,” Cullen said, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He was certain that Cassandra hadn’t come up just to give him a blanket.

Cassandra sighed and shook her head, “Cullen, there’s no way she could have survived that avalanche, and we need you back at the camp. The moon is setting. Even your eyes won’t be able to see anything.”

Looking up at the sky, Cullen could see that she was right. Desperately, he gave the dark landscape another look around, but all he could see was snow and mountain peaks. Gwen wasn’t coming.

He wanted to kick himself. He should have prepared Haven better for an attack, suggested they move to a more defensible location. He should have done _something_ to ensure that this couldn’t happen.

He should've kissed her like he’d wanted to.

But he hadn’t, and now Gwen was gone.

He turned away and started down the path with Cassandra, trying to hide his anger, to hide away just how much her death affected him. He was so angry with himself, stomping in the snow, that he almost didn't hear the faint cry on the wind. He stopped abruptly, barring Cassandra’s path with his arm.

“Cullen, what-,”

“Shush!” he said, holding up a hand for silence, and listened.

“Help...”

Cullen spun around, and saw by the diminishing light of the moon that what he had earlier mistaken for a rock was trying to crawl forward in the snow. His heart leapt into his throat and he dashed forward, calling out to Cassandra.

“There! It’s her!”

“Impossible!” Cassandra said as she dashed up behind him. As they both drew closer, it was without a doubt that the figure was Gwen.

“Thank the Maker!” Cassandra exclaimed as Cullen slid into the snow beside Gwen. She was shivering, her lips blue with cold. When she saw that it was him, she fell into Cullen’s chest, shivering.

“I found you! Thank the Maker, I found you.”

Cullen heard the hysteria in her voice as she buried her face in his shoulder. He reached out and grabbed the blanket from Cassandra and wrapped it around Gwen’s body, holding her close to himself, rubbing his hand along her arm. She shook and shivered and sobbed into his shoulder. He tried to get a look at her, to see if she was hurt, but she clung to him and he couldn't turn her enough to get a good look. Cassandra reached out and gently rubbed Gwen’s back as she spoke to him.

“She's exhausted. Let's get her back to the camp.”

Cullen nodded and then turned his head down to speak to Gwen.

“Herald, can you stand?”

Gwen nodded, and made an attempt to stand with Cullen’s help. Her foot slipped in the snow and she cried out as she fell against him. Catching her, he carefully lowered her back to the ground. Cassandra quickly reached out and probed her hands along Gwen’s chest until she whimpered.

“Cracked ribs and probably some bruising,” she said, then reached up to check Gwen’s head. There was a large bruise there, but when Cassandra probed it nothing shifted under her fingers.

“Maker, it's a miracle she even made it up here. Thankfully, her skull isn't cracked, but I suggest we carry her there,” Cassandra said.

Cullen didn’t wait another second. Wrapping the blanket around Gwen more tightly, he lifted her into his arms. Her arms slid out of the blanket and wrapped around his neck, burying them and her face in the fur of his collar. Cassandra reached down and picked up Gwen’s staff before following.

She was fairly light in his arms, and had it not been for the deep snow, he would’ve found it easy to carry her across the terrain and towards the camp. While he carried her Cullen could hear her muttering to herself.

“Magister of the Old Gods. So tall. Lyrium. Red lyrium. Why the Anchor. It hurts, it hurts. Why me. It hurts.” She fell silent for a moment before moaning about red lyrium again and then, “Corypheus.”

He could make no sense of her words, but he leaned his head a little closer to her and softly said, “Shh, it’s going to be alright.”

She raised her head a little and looked up at him with blurry eyes. A tired smile came across her face, and Cullen smiled a little back. As she leaned her head back against his chest, she started to mutter again.

“Didn’t think I’d see you again. I want to do more than just kis-Your cloak is really soft.”

Cullen almost stopped walking at her words, unsure if he’d heard her correctly. When he looked down at Gwen she was barely conscious. She probably had no idea what she was saying. Right?

They finally made it to the healer’s tent, Cassandra and Cullen pushing their way through the crowd to Mother Giselle. When she saw who Cullen was carrying, her hand covered her mouth in shock.

“Maker, is it possible?”

Seeing an empty cot, Cullen laid Gwen down on it. She gave a moan of protest and held on even tighter to Cullen's neck when he tried to pull away.

“Herald- you must let go,” Cullen said, trying to pull her arms off him. Maker, she was strong.

Thankfully, Cassandra and Mother Giselle came to his aid and managed to pry her arms off him. She grabbed the blanket she was wrapped in and pulled it closer. A mage swept in and covered her with more blankets while Mother Giselle ordered a second to bring a potion to help warm her. She opened her eyes blearily and stretched out her left hand. Instinctively, he wrapped his much larger hand around her freezing fingers, hiding the green light that shone from them, and she smiled.

“Thank you.”

Her voice was faint, and when she closed her eyes this time, her hand went limp.

“Herald?”

She made no response. Cullen shook her shoulders urgently.

“Lady Trevelyan, don’t fall asleep. Open your eyes. _Gwen!_ ”

At the sound of her name, Gwen woke up with a moan. Cullen reached out and brushed back that strand of hair that always fell in her face. A tired smile crossed her face briefly before it was replaced by a wince of pain.

"You'll be alright. Just stay awake," he told her. He felt a hand on his shoulder turned to face  Mother Giselle.

"Commander, let us handle this," she said.

Reluctantly, Cullen backed away as two mages came in and began to tend to her. One poured something down her throat, while the other began to peel back her wet robes to reveal her injuries.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Cassandra, who jerked her head away from the healer's tent.

"Come, we should find Leliana and Josephine. They need to know Lady Trevelyan survived."

"Leliana probably already knows," Cullen muttered.

"You're probably right," Cassandra said and her hands clasped behind her back. She glanced at Cullen from the corner of her eye, and looked like she was trying to refrain from say something. His patience already thin, Cullen gave a sigh and faced her.

"Do you have something to say, Cassandra?"

Cassandra grimaced and said, "You are fond of Lady Trevelyan."

It was more a statement than a question, which didn't surprise Cullen; Cassandra had been aware of his admiration for Trevelyan from the start. He did wonder where she was taking this conversation, however.

"She's an admirable woman," Cullen said, folding his arms with a warning look. Cassandra didn’t miss it, but neither did she back down.

"Cullen, I want you to consider if you're ready."

“I asked you to watch me with regards for my ability to lead the Inquisition’s forces, not my love life.”

“I’m your friend. I know you are a grown man, however-”

"Are you concerned because she's a mage?"

"It _is_ a concern—but not my main one. It's because of what you are dealing with right now. Relationships are hard enough without the sort of complications you and Lady Trevelyan face," Cassandra replied, crossing her arms. Cullen’s hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. He knew Cassandra meant well, but her timing was not always the best.

Before Cullen could make any retort Cassandra raised her hand in placation, “If you wish to court her, I certainly won’t stop you. She clearly likes you. I just want you to be sure you’re ready for this.”

Cullen made no response. Partly because it had just occurred to him what Cassandra was saying. She really thought that Cullen was ready to court Gwen. But, she was right. Was he even ready for something like that? Gwen was beautiful, kind, and there was a fire and passion in her that he found attractive.

But even so, he wasn’t sure how serious Gwen was. True, they had flirted, but he’d seen her flirting with Blackwall, Dorian, the Iron Bull, and even Sera. And she _was_ a mage and he _had_ been a templar. Even though he’d left the Order, Cullen was well aware what people would say.

He looked back up at Cassandra, wanting to ask if she thought he was ready, but she spoke up before Cullen could voice his question.

“You are no longer a templar, so I have no arguments against you two courting. What I want is for someone to make you happy.”

“And what if she does? Make me happy, I mean,” Cullen asked.

“Then I will be happy for you both,” Cassandra said with a nod. She turned and headed back into the center of camp.

Slowly, Cullen followed her.

He would have thought that having this conversation, talking about it, would have made him more certain. It hadn’t.

When he looked up, Cassandra had found Leliana and Josephine. Soon enough, his thoughts were distracted with other problems, including what to do now that Haven was gone.

* * *

 

Cullen threaded his way through the crowd, trying to make his way towards Gwen. It was hard when everyone wanted to get as close as possible to her, but he pressed on. By the time he was close enough to call out to her, she was walking away with Solas, for a private conversation

Turning away, Cullen looked for something to do, when he spied Dorian approaching him. Cullen fought a groan; he had no patience for the mage tonight. Before he could make his way elsewhere, Dorian waved him over.

"A drink, Commander?"

Cullen frowned. Gwen clearly trusted him, and it _was_ due to him that she had survived Redcliffe. Cullen couldn't shake the feeling that the man was putting on a show, trying to hide something, though.

“I’m sorry, but I have to make sure that there’s a guard patrol around the camp. Perhaps another time, Dorian.”

Dorian rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Commander, I’m not a fool. There’s already a patrol and by the look on your face you clearly need a distraction, as do I. We nearly lost a good woman today."

Desperately, Cullen tried to think of something else that needed his attention, but nothing came to mind. He sighed.

“Fine.”

"Excellent,” Dorian replied happily, and before Cullen knew it, he was being lead to the temporary mess hall they had set up.

It was really just a few makeshift tables with a place for the cooks to hand out rations. Dorian ignored the food and headed straight for the beer.

“Two tankards of whatever tastes the least like piss, please.”

The cook scowled, but he went over and filled to tankards with a more amber ale. When he returned he practically shoved them into Dorian’s arms.

“Satisfied? You Tevinter prick.”

“Thank you,” Dorian said, taking the tankards with a smile. He headed for a table. Or what could be called a table. It was more like a barrel with a flat piece of wood on top.

“Maybe don’t insult the cooks next time,” Cullen muttered.

“Why? They already think that I’m a blood mage,” Dorian replied with a shrug.

“I’m just saying you might find poison in your food if you keep insulting them.”

“Then it’s good that I have magic to test for poison. Come, this is as good a place as any.”

He pointed to a table with some makeshift benches and sat down. As soon as they were settled, Cullen grabbed the nearest tankard and took a long drink. When he put it down, Dorian stared at him with a mixture of admiration and disbelief.

"And here I thought I'd have to pace myself."

Grimacing, Cullen looked down at his tankard and said, "I don't normally drink like this, but-"

"You're in love with Gwen Trevelyan and you almost lost her," Dorian said bluntly.

If Cullen had been drinking at that moment he would have choked. Instead his eyes widened and his face started to heat up.

Dorian began to laugh.

"What?" Cullen growled, not at all happy to be laughed at.

"Sorry, but—Maker—the look on your face. Everyone is aware of it, Commander. The only thing they're betting on is who will make the first move, you or Trevelyan."

Cullen looked down at his tankard, his stomach churning with embarrassment and worry.

"I think the betting might be a bit premature. Lady Trevelyan flirts with many people. Blackwall, Sera, Iron Bull...”

 _You_ , he thought, giving Dorian a slightly dark look. Of all the people Gwen flirted with, Dorian was the one Cullen felt most threatened by. He was closer to what seemed to be Gwen’s type and she was a little too familiar with him for Cullen’s liking. Dorian, on the other hand, seemed unimpressed by the list and snorted with laughter.

"Blackwall? Cullen, he's what? Forty? She's twenty…"

"Twenty-four," Cullen said, feeling a slight sense of smugness that he knew this before Dorian, even if the information was given to him by Leliana. "And who's to say what she likes."

"Not men twice her age. Gwen flirts with Blackwall about as seriously as she flirts with anyone else.”

Cullen glared at Dorian. Did Dorian really think this was helpful? Dorian noticed the look on his face, and gave a shake of his head.

“If I recall correctly, it was you she kissed before heading out to battle.”

"She was being kind."

Dorian gave him a disbelieving look as he said, “By the Blight. Cullen, Gwen wasn’t just “being kind.” She may be a flirt, but she doesn’t play with people like that.”

Cullen looked back down at his tankard, unsure of what to say. He wanted to believe Dorian, but he was an addict, plagued with nightmares that sometimes seemed more real than the waking world, and his treatment of mages in the past made him doubt himself and his reactions to her, sometimes fiercely.

“It’s not that,” Cullen muttered. “I’m just not sure I’m the best person for her.”

“You two are as bad as each other,” Dorian scoffed. He took a large drink of his own ale and then looked straight into Cullen’s eyes.

“Cullen, how are you going to know if she wants to be with you if you don’t let her know you want to be with her? You have a golden opportunity here, with you rescuing her from the snow. Go up to her and flirt back.”

“I don’t have your silver tongue, Dorian,” Cullen snapped.

“Then don’t flirt. Just tell her. She’s not unaware that you like her.”

“I…” Cullen started, but then stopped when he saw Gwen approaching them. Dorian turned and, smiling, he opened his arms wide and hugged her.

“Gwen, darling, we were just talking about you,” Dorian said as he hugged her.

“Really? Ah-! Careful, my ribs are still sore,” she said, wincing as Dorian let her go. Cullen stood up, and walked over to her.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Gwen gave him a reassuring smile and said, “Yes. Now that I’ve rested, I should be healed quickly enough.”

He tried to smile back, but the worry and stress he’d been under the past few days made it difficult. Gwen, however, seemed to grow a bit shy, and brushed her hair out of her face.

“I believe I owe you some thanks for rescuing me from the snow.”

“It was nothing,” he said, and had to resist the urge to frown at Dorian, who was rolling his eyes as he sat back down. Cullen settled for a glare, but it didn’t stop Dorian from continuing to share his thoughts.

“He’d been watching for you since we left Haven. We were starting to worry that he might freeze himself.”

Cullen kicked him under the makeshift table. In hindsight, it was not as subtle as Cullen had hoped, as it shook the whole table. Gwen only shook her head, and then slid onto the bench beside Cullen.

“Do you two ever play nice with each other?” she asked, with a pointed look at Dorian.

“I assure you, my Lady,” Dorian replied in his usual theatrical manner, “that my intentions towards the Commander are pure of heart. And yet I always seemed to have bruises by the end of the day.”

“Poor Dorian,” Gwen said with a pout. “So under appreciated.”

Cullen felt the sudden urge to get up and leave. He didn’t want to watch Gwen flirt with a man who wasn’t serious about her. Maker’s Breath, even Blackwall at least showed some interest.

There was one thing Cullen could say for Dorian. He could get past the walls that Gwen had put up around her. Something that Cullen constantly struggled with. Perhaps it was because Dorian was a mage as well, Gwen just felt more comfortable around him. Still, it was hard to watch them flirt.

“Cullen?”

Cullen looked up and realized Gwen had been talking to him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “My thoughts were elsewhere.”

“Clearly,” Dorian said, giving him an exasperated look. “She was just saying that Solas might have a place for the Inquisition. He wants to go with her and scout out the area, see if they can find it.”

Cullen looked at Gwen, who nodded in agreement as she said, “I know it’s dangerous, but it’s better if the two of us can find this place and scout out a route that we can use.”

“The two of you?” Cullen asked, starting to wonder how much of the conversation he’d missed.

“Me and Solas,” Gwen said.

The thought of Gwen being out in the mountains alone after facing such an ordeal in Haven was not comforting to Cullen. But Gwen had proven time and again that she could look out for herself, and Solas was a skilled mage.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Perhaps we should wait a few days, recuperate. Even just two days, and I’d be able to send out a scouting unit to assist.”

“And if we stay here and freeze to death, it won’t matter if we have assistance,” Gwen responded. “I know it’s not ideal, but it would be better if the people actually knew they were heading to a safe haven. Besides, Solas thinks that with the two of us, it won’t take more than a few days to find it.”

There was no argument to be had. Gwen was right; they needed a place to regroup and to allow any stragglers to find them. Cullen just wished there was another way to go about it.

“Alright, I see your point,” Cullen relented. “But I still think we should talk with the other advisors. They need to know, and... they might have other solutions, too.”

“Cullen,” Gwen said gently. “It’s alright. Really.”

There was a moment of silence, as Cullen tried to work out what to say. Nothing came to him, and it didn’t help that he had an audience with Dorian being right there. Dorian, however, stood up, and gave a slight bow.

“I just remembered something Lady Josephine asked me to do. I’ll let you two be.”

He walked away, leaving Cullen alone with Gwen. Desperately, Cullen tried to meet Gwen’s eyes to talk to her, but now he almost wished Dorian had stayed.

He wanted to ask about the kiss she’d given him, if it really was more than just an act of kindness. He couldn’t think of a way to phrase it without sounding desperate, however.

Finally, Gwen spoke.

“Cullen, about the kiss—”

“Herald, I know how battles work. I don’t have any expectations from you,” Cullen said quickly, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t bear the thought of her letting him down, gently or not.

“Oh… I see.”

He’d said the wrong thing and he knew it. Quickly, he tried to save the situation.

“No, it’s just… I don’t want you to feel obligated to act on something that you did out of kindness. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Do you really think I would do that?”

“No, I… I just mean…”

What did he mean? Cullen had absolutely no idea, but he could already tell that he’d ruined the moment with his stumbling. Maker, why was he so bad at this?

He watched as Gwen reached out to grab the tankard Dorian had left behind, and drained what was left. Slamming the tankard down, she stood quickly.

“Let’s go and speak to our Ambassador and Spymaster,” she said, her voice flat. “Solas and I should leave as soon as possible.”

Leaving his own tankard behind, Cullen followed slowly behind her.

The conversation with Leliana, Josephine, and Cassandra was a short one. All agreed that speed was of the essence and that it would be much quicker for Solas and Gwen to scout out the area alone, than to wait for a full unit. Cullen tried to meet her eye during the meeting, but Gwen always seemed to be looking somewhere else. The meeting was concluded, with Gwen and Solas starting their search the following day, after Gwen had time to rest.

Before he left, Cullen made one more attempt to speak to Gwen. She tried to leave quickly, but Cullen managed to stop her before she got too far.

“Listen,” he said earnestly. “I’m sorry for what I said to you back there. I just… Didn’t want you to act on something you might have done in the heat of battle. I didn’t mean for it to sound the way it did.”

Gwen still didn’t looked convinced, her arms wrapped around her waist. Whatever walls she’d let down, she’d built back up again. How could he have been so stupid? He looked down at the ground, disappointed and ashamed.

“I’ve clearly hurt you and I’m sorry. I’m just not that good at this sort of thing.”

“You’re never going to be good if you keep pushing people away,” Gwen replied. “People keep trying to reach out to you, to be friends with you. But it’s like you don’t think you deserve any of it, so you shove it back in their face.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” he said, hoping that this was at least mending some bridges. Gwen stepped away from him.

“Don’t be sorry; do something about it. Otherwise, you’re going to end up alone.”

She pushed past him, leaving him standing alone in the center of camp. He took a deep breath, and looked up at the sky. There was no point in chasing after her now. He’d just have to hope that with time, Gwen might trust him again. That hope felt faint, however.

With a heavy sigh, he turned and made his way back to his tent. He briefly saw Dorian make his way towards him, but he ignored the mage’s attempts to catch his attention. He was in no mood to talk.

As he lay there that night waiting for sleep to finally take him, Gwen’s last words kept ringing through his mind.

_People keep trying to reach out to you, to be friends with you. But it’s like you don’t think you deserve any of it, so you shove it back in their face._

The words cut him like a knife.

She was right, of course. He did push people away. He’d done it with his friends, his family, and now he was doing the same to her. It was strange, but for the first time in years, he truly felt alone. What was the greater revelation was that he didn’t like it.

Turning to his side, Cullen silently prayed to the Maker that he might find a way to undo this.

 


	9. Responsibility

Three days had passed since Gwen had been made Inquisitor, and she still wasn’t used to it. What made it worse was that people now went around calling her “Your Worship” in addition to Herald.

As much as she loathed it, she was limited in options. What Cullen and Leliana had pointed out in Haven was still true: it was the people’s belief in her divinity that kept her from being mobbed. The moment she questioned that belief was the moment things got dicey. She didn’t like her chances if the people of Thedas decided she was guilty again.

It was only as she was becoming the most powerful woman in Thedas that she fully realized how alone she was, more than ever before. She was no longer the equal of her peers, she was their leader, and the nature of her station set her apart from them. She’d even been given one of the largest rooms in Skyhold, and although it was in need of repairs and only had a cot for a bed, it was vastly more luxurious than the shared quarters the other enchanters received. The first night there she’d lay in her room, trying to keep her fear and loneliness at bay. It was hard when there was no one to talk to.

Gwen made her way down the stairs, leading to the upper courtyard. She was going to go for a ride before anyone could stop her. Riding was meditative to her, and she desperately needed to get her bearings if she was to be the Inquisitor. Before she made it to the stable, however, Blackwall approached her.

“Inquisitor, I was hoping you could walk with me on the ramparts. I was going to check our fortifications.”

 _So close,_ Gwen thought. She gave a mental sigh. Well, it would be nice to talk to someone she knew on a friendly basis.

The morning sun hit Gwen’s face as she followed Blackwall up to the ramparts, and she squinted until she was able to turn away from the light. She was somewhat curious about what Blackwall wanted to talk to her about; she doubted it was about their defenses.

Cullen was already looking into the wall’s fortifications, and it would be more practical for Blackwall to bring his concerns up with the Commander.

When they reached a relatively quiet area, he stopped, leaning against the rock wall.

“We’ll be able to see Corypheus coming from miles away.”

Gwen nodded in agreement, waiting for Blackwall to bring up his point.

“Corypheus thinks we’re beaten. By the time he finds us, we’ll be legion.”

 _And hopefully we'll have halted some of his other plans,_ she thought. Since she’d accepted the role of Inquisitor, Gwen had felt the weight of it on her shoulders. So far, most of her work had involved repairing Skyhold, but their fragile peace wouldn’t last for much longer.

Blackwall gave a nod of approval and said, “I know soldiers. I know _our_ soldiers. Corypheus made a hundred enemies when he kicked down our door. And when he attacked you, he really made it personal.”

His eyes lit up, and he pounded his fist into his palm as he continued, “I swear I’ll take that twisted bastard down, even if I have to die to do it.”

“Thank you, Blackwall. Your help is appreciated.”

“It’s my job, isn’t it? Killing darkspawn,” he said with a slightly disappointed smile. “And I suppose I better stick to that. Especially when you have more suitable candidates at your disposal.”

“What do you mean?” Gwen asked, unsure of where this was going.

Blackwall laughed, “You think people don’t see it? How you carry on with that Tevinter mage and the Commander. Though, if you want my opinion, I’d suggest the Commander. He’s seems more your type.”

“Even if there was something going on—and I’m not saying there is—what makes you think that I want to be more than friends with either of them?” Gwen asked incredulously.

“Well, now, I might believe that with Dorian. For all your flirting, it seems to be more of a game between the two of you. But I’ve seen how you look at the Commander. I’ve never once gotten that look from you. And he’s… obviously dedicated to you. Chosen Herald or not.”

 _Dedicated?_ Gwen thought. Yes, she suppose that fit him well. For all of Cullen’s lack of confidence, her inner circle had admitted that he’d been the only one who never doubted her return after Haven. And though she’d been a little out of it, she still remembered the way he’d brushed her hair out of her face and held her hand until the healers had dragged him away.

Gwen swallowed, and looked away. He might be right about Cullen, but she wasn’t sure if dedication was enough to get past his lack of self-esteem. She was nervous enough about the whole situation, which was strange for her. Normally she flirted until the man got the idea and they fell into bed for a brief, if passionate fling. There wasn’t the opportunity to get tied up about intentions or motivations in the circle. You took the experience for what it was, and were thankful for it.

“He couldn’t even say anything while I was just an agent of the Inquisition. Do your really think he’s going to say something now?”

Blackwall only shrugged.

“I don’t know. Cullen certainly has the look of a man who’s seen too much. He’s seen the best and the worst in people, and I think he still struggles with where that leaves him. Having someone like you in his life would do him some good. But it’s going to take some patience on your end as well.”

“And what if nothing ever comes of it?” she asked, surprised by how much the answer mattered to her.

“That’s a risk you have to take, isn’t it? All I can say is, Cullen’s got a lot to work through. But if you give him the chance, I think it could be good for the both of you. This is going to be a tough, thankless job, Inquisitor, and you need people whom you can trust. As hard as that might seem to you.”

“You make it sound like I’m the one pushing him away. If that was my intention, that is,” Gwen replied, her arms crossed.

“Except for one kiss in the middle of a battle, you haven’t exactly been running to him with open arms. If that was your intention.”

Gwen looked away from him, frustrated. She didn’t like the picture Blackwall was painting. But, was it really so different from what Dorian had told her in Haven?

Except, she’d tried. And Cullen had made it seem like nothing.

Blackwall watched her for a while, then finally asked, “When were you sent to the circle?”

“When I was six. Why?”

“I’m from the Free Marches; I know they hold no love for Mages. Separation from families can be difficult, especially if one is very young.”

She shifted her feet, and crossed her arms, “If you’re asking me if my leaving my family was traumatic, then the answer is yes, like many. And I’d appreciate it if you left it at that.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. But I heard what happened in the mountains. I’m not saying he wasn’t an idiot himself, but you are a bit distant at times. My guess is you find it hard to trust people. Can you blame him for questioning your intentions?”

Grimacing, Gwen looked away from Blackwall. She didn’t much like being described like this, but he was right. She guarded herself out of fear of being betrayed again. A part of her wanted to share more with the older Warden, but she was too uncomfortable. She didn’t like telling just anyone her troubles.

Blackwall seemed to see some of this, and gave a sigh.

“Ah, listen to me. I’m an old man and you clearly have other troubles. Do as you will with the Commander, but I think he does deserve a second chance.”

“I’ll think on it. And Blackwall, I am sorry,” Gwen said, hoping that he could tell she really meant it. “If I’d known…”

“Inquisitor, I’m an old man. It’s not that surprising.”

“That still doesn’t mean that I didn’t hurt you,” Gwen replied, trying to give him a smile. “And you're not that old.”

“I’m not hurt. Just be the woman you need to be to lead these people, that’s all I ask,” he said. He began to leave, when he stopped and turned to face her.

“Tell me honestly,” he said. “Are you who they say you are? Were you sent by Andraste?”

“I don’t know. There’s so much I don’t remember. What if they’re right?”

“Do you think it matters?” he said. “Don’t you see what you are to people? They need you to be the Herald.”

Gwen said nothing. Honestly, she wasn’t sure what to say to that. At every turn she was being held up as a hero and a savior. She’d accepted the title of Herald because it protected her, kept her safe from the Chantry and nobles who might wish to end her. It was a game.

Blackwall mistook her silence though, and turned away with a shake of his head.

“Blackwall…” she said, but he’d walked away before she could finish her sentence, leaving her standing alone on the battlements.

 

* * *

 

That last conversation with Blackwall was the final straw on an overburdened nugalope’s back. She needed to get away from Skyhold and clear her head, even if it was just for an hour.

Striding down the stairs, Gwen headed for the stables. She looked around for the old stable master, and found Dennet tending to a strange creature that looked like a gigantic halla.

“Inquisitor,” he said. “Can I help you with something?”

“Yes,” Gwen said quickly. “I was hoping to borrow a mount to go for a brief ride.”

“Are you sure it’s wise to go out there alone? I hear the scouts have found a few spies in the area,” he said.

“I won’t go far,” Gwen assured him. “I just need to clear my head.”

“In that case,” Dennet said, opening the gate stabling the strange creature. “Might I recommend this hart over a horse? Their feet are better suited to the rocky terrain around here.”

“I’ve never ridden such a creature before,” she said, staring at the heart with fascination. “Will it be safe?”

“Safe as riding a horse. ” he said surely. “Come and say hello.”

Gwen stepped forward and held out her hand. The hart’s nostrils flared as it took in her scent.

Master Dennet handed her some oats to feed it, as he turned aside to gather blanket and saddle. It nibbled happily at the treat as Dennet brushed down its flanks and checked the saddle straps. He put on the halter before handing the reins off to her.

“Does he have a name?” she asked.

“She’s called Swift-foot,” Dennet said. “And I think you two will get along just fine.”

Smiling, Gwen led Swift-foot out towards the gates, before she mounted. Swift-foot shifted a little at first, but Gwen petted her neck soothingly.

Once they were through the gates, Gwen nudged Swift-foot into a canter.

It wasn’t quite like riding a horse, but it didn’t take Gwen long to figure out the hart’s rhythm. She quickly learned to trust Swift-foot to find her footing as she found her way along the mountain ridge.

It was good to be out riding like this. Riding always gave her the sense of freedom that she’d never had growing up. The only thing that was missing was her brother. If he was here, he’d be making some joke or trying to show off.

Gwen pushed back the thought of her brother as they rounded a corner.

To Gwen’s surprise there was a little pond surrounded by hardy mountain trees and small plants sheltered by their bulk around it. There wasn’t much green, but Gwen suspected that come spring, this place would be a beautiful little area. What was better, it looked practically untouched.

Dismounting, Gwen headed over to the pool. She allowed Swift-foot to bend down and drink. Dropping the reins, she started to walk around the pond. Already she could see some green starting to sprout up. It made Gwen smile.

Finding a flat rock, Gwen sat down for a moment and watched Swift-foot sniff the air as she thought.

Blackwall was right—in the end it didn’t matter whether or not she believed she was the Herald. The people did, and they needed that hope.

Had Andraste felt the same? Had she been like her, a woman who found herself trapped in a situation where she had to rise to the occasion? Did she believe the things that people said about her and the Maker?

_Perhaps she just realized it didn’t matter. It was the people who needed to believe, not her._

Looking up at the sun, she could see that an hour had passed. If she didn’t head back soon, people would start to worry. At least now she knew this was here.

Collecting up some rocks, she piled them up towards the entrance of this small glade. Finding the flattest one, Gwen closed her eyes and concentrated. When she opened them, a symbol flashed briefly before fading. Now she could find this place again if she wanted to return.

Heading back over to Swift-foot, she reached up and scratched the heart under her chin. Her eyes drooped a little in pleasure.

“This can be our little secret,” Gwen said softly to her. “Our place to come when we need to get away.”

 

* * *

 

Later that afternoon, Gwen found herself sitting at her desk, trying to sort through the mountains of paperwork that had accumulated over the past few days. Who’d have thought that being Inquisitor would have meant so much paperwork? Paperwork she only partly understood.

Gwen was half tempted to just give up and go speak with Josephine. Except, if she did that, Josephine would start nagging her about the Fereldan diplomat’s letter, Leliana would bug her about the scout reports, and Cullen would start bothering her about patrols. She just needed to get through this.

The door to her bedroom opened and Gwen looked up to see Dorian making his way over to her, with a bottle of Orlesian red wine and two glasses.

“My dear, you look like myself after a particularly memorable fortnight with five Navarran texts and a not-completely-legal neocomian scrying set. It’s the middle of the afternoon and I desperately need help with this bottle.”

“You know, you could just use my name,” Gwen said with a teasing smile. “I think you’ve earned that right.”

“Gwen it is, then. Though I do reserve the right to use “my dear” whenever the occasion calls for it. Now, are you going to help me with this wine?”

Gwen eyed the glass. She was tempted, but her gaze fell back on the stack of papers she still had to sort through. Sighing, Gwen ran her hands through her hair, giving Dorian a sorrowful look.

“I’d love to. Believe me, but I have to get through all of this by tomorrow and—”

“Spider,” Dorian said abruptly.

“What?”

“There’s a spider on your arm,” he repeated, pointing at her arm.

There was a momentary pause as Gwen stared at the big, fat, ugly _thing_ crawling up her arm, before she completely freaked out.

She lept up, shrieking, letting papers fly everywhere as she scrambled to brush the spider off her. It fell to the ground and began scramble up on her chair before blasting the tiny black thing with a fireball.

Looking up, she saw Dorian staring at her, a grin creeping over his face before he started to chuckle.

“Sweet Andraste, the look on your face. You’d have thought it was an archdemon.”

“It’s not funny,” Gwen said, glaring at him. “I _hate_ spiders.”

“You’ve faced a Magister from before the blights, and yet you’re afraid of one little black spider,” Dorian said with a shake of his head.

“You’d be too if your brother had left some in your bed when you were five,” Gwen growled.

Dorian’s smile broadened.

“Your brother sounds like a perfect little shit.”

“He's my brother,” Gwen said straightening herself so she could meet Dorian’s eye.

“Alright,” Dorian said, holding out a full glass of wine. “But I reserve the right to poke fun at you for your fear of spiders. It’s just so pleasing to know that you’re afraid of something so harmless.”

“They’re not harmless,” Gwen muttered darkly, but she took the wine from him. She sipped the wine, and was surprised by how good it tasted. It wasn’t bitter like most reds, and there was a sweetness to it that reminded her of berries. It was followed by what tasted like smoked cheese.

“Just what did you have to bribe Josephine with to get your hands on this?” Gwen asked, looking at the glass.

“Who says she even knows? I have my ways,” Dorian said with a smile. “Now come on, let’s go for a walk.”

Rolling her eyes, Gwen gave into Dorian with a sigh and a fond smile before  following him out of the room. As they walked down Dorian draped his arm around Gwen. It surprised her, but she didn’t try to shrug it off and instead leaned into his embrace. It was like being with her brother again, the one other person who’d ever made her feel safe. In a lot of ways, she didn’t regret that Dorian didn’t reciprocate her advances.

Since the catastrophe with Cullen, she’d come to appreciate Dorian’s platonic feelings for her more. There was no drama, no guessing, just friendship. If people gossiped about them, she could easily ignore it.

“So,” Dorian said as they entered the great hall. “Any place you want to go specifically?”

“Not really,” Gwen said. “We could just wander around till we see something interesting.”

“Fine by me,” Dorian said, and headed towards the gardens.

There really weren’t many places they could go. A lot of the walls and bridges were still collapsed, and the dwarves had roped off some corners, but she and Dorian found a few areas to explore, mostly in the basements. They found an old library covered with cobwebs, which Gwen had flatly refused to enter, unable to banish the thought of several black spiders crawling all over her. Dorian had been disappointed, but agreed in the end, claiming that there was so much dust that he'd have to bathe all over again.

They ended up back in the courtyard and found that it was clambering with noise. Cullen and Bull were in the middle of a ring of new recruits, sparring. Both men were using practice weapons, though Cullen was using his actual shield, and showing how to fight sword and shield against two-handed. It was a distracting as Cullen was not wearing a shirt, and Gwen couldn’t help but notice how… well-defined he was.

Oh, Bull was muscled too, but Gwen prefered Cullen’s physique. She snuck a glance at Dorian and had to smile when she saw that his eyes were following Bull. He might have been disappointed to learn that Cullen was never going to be interested in him, but it didn’t take too long for him to move on. It was just so adorably cliche, though. The Tevinter altus falling for the qunari reever.

“Have you tried actually complimenting Bull instead of insulting him?” Gwen asked, watching Dorian out of the corner of her eye.

Dorian’s reaction amused her greatly. He’d been taking a sip of his wine and choked on it.

“What?” he coughed.

Pressing her lips together, Gwen did her best not to laugh as she said, “You think I didn’t hear the flirting between you two when we went to the Fallow Mire?”

“Over my dead body,” Dorian said, giving her a dark look.

“And why not? He’s good looking,” Gwen pointed out.

“Then you sleep with him. He seems to have a thing for red-heads.”

“I just might if you don’t do something,” Gwen replied. She was only half serious, but Dorian’s expression darkened.

“What?” she asked, turning to look at him. “I know that Tevinter and the Qunari are age-old enemies, but there’s a certain rugged look about him. Or are you jealous again?”

“While I will admit I’m a little jealous that you barely have to bat an eye to get a man running after you, that’s not why I’m bothered,” Dorian replied, looking down at his glass.

“Then what? If you like Bull go for it. I’m not that interested,” Gwen said, wondering why Dorian was being so vague. It seemed a little out of character.

“Firstly, Inquisitor, there is nothing between the Iron Bull and myself, so you can cease insinuating that there is,” he said. “And second, I know that you’re mad at Cullen, but don’t you think fucking another man is taking it a little too far?”

“You make it sound like we’re bickering lovers,” she said with a scowl.

“I’m merely pointing out that just because Cullen’s a bit of a fool when he’s around you, that doesn’t mean you have to keep punishing him for it.”

“I’m not punishing him.”

“Yes, my dear, you are,” Dorian said pointedly.

Gwen scowled, but couldn’t stop her eyes from looking over to Cullen, who’d taken a break. He’d walked over to a water barrel with Bull. As she watched, Cullen dunked his head into the barrel and drew his head out with a splash that sent water everywhere. As the water dripped down his chest, Gwen’s heart raced. What really made the scene though, was what happened next.

Cullen’s movements had sent a great deal of water the Iron Bull’s way, such that the reever’s left leg was almost completely drenched. Giving a mischievous grin, Bull grabbed the barrel and upended it over himself, soaking Cullen in the process.  Sputtering and laughing, Cullen splashed him back from one of the other nearby barrels. It was such a boyish sort of thing to do, that Gwen felt like she was seeing a completely different person.

Despite herself, she smiled, though she stopped when Dorian looked her way.

A few of the other soldier had started laughing at the sight of their commander being so playful and lighthearted. Beside her, Dorian was struggling not to laugh at Cullen’s antics. Finally, Cullen separated from the group and grabbed a towel to dry himself off. It was as he was reaching for his shirt that his gaze finally met hers. At first his gaze was nervous, but the longer she held his stare, the surer the smile on his face grew.

Gwen returned the smile. Really, how could she not? Cullen rarely smiled, and even if she was still angry at him, she wasn’t going to be the one to put that constant frown back on his face.

“See,” Dorian said, taking her attention away from Cullen. “You clearly like him. Why are you being so stubborn about telling him?”

Silence fell between them.

Finally she answered.

“He used to be a templar,” Gwen said.

The only indication that Dorian had heard her was a soft sigh to her left, and his hand on her shoulder. Gwen looked away from him and back at Cullen, whose attention had turned back to the soldiers. She almost wished that Cullen would turn and look at her, but this was for the best. She didn’t want to give him hope.

“Gwen, you are the Inquisitor. People are flocking to your banner,” Dorian said softly. “I don’t think anyone will care who you fall in love with.”

“But they will,” Gwen said looking down at the ground. “Maybe at first it won’t matter, but it just takes a few too many tongues wagging for something so small to become a problem.”

“So it’s better to be alone?” Dorian asked softly.

“It can be,” Gwen said softly. “It hurts less when you don’t care.”

“Or you just end up screaming on the inside,” Dorian said. “I’ve lived a life of pretending, Gwen. It’s just as painful, perhaps even worse, because in the end, you have no one to blame but yourself.”

Gwen didn’t answer right away, her thoughts traveling back to the mountain pass and her last words with Cullen.

_People keep trying to reach out to you, to be friends with you. But it’s like you don’t think you deserve any of it._

She gave a small laugh. Maker, perhaps she wasn’t so different from Cullen after all.

“What?” Dorian asked, looking confused.

“Nothing,” she said. “Just something I said to Cullen that night we argued.”

She then turned to face Dorian, straightening herself up.

“I actually wanted to ask you something.”

“Alright,” Dorian said suspiciously. Gwen gestured with her left hand.

“It’s about my mark,” she said. “When Corypheus tried to take the Mark off my hand, it developed a new power. I can now open rifts.”

Dorian’s mouth parted slightly in surprise and glanced at the hand, worriedly.

“Have you told Solas?”

“Yes. He says that there’s nothing to be done, that it’s a part of me. But…” she began, and then paused, wondering how to phrase it.

“But…” Dorian pressed.

“I can feel the power, and it’s… immense. Possibly more than I could handle if it… if the cap I’ve put on it should ever fail,” she finally said. Dorian’s expression grew more worried, but Gwen pressed on before he could say anything.

“I was hoping that you could look more into the orb that Corypheus had, maybe get ahold of some materials from Tevinter and see if you can’t find a way to… I don’t know. Control it, remove it.”

“Does anyone else know?” Dorian finally asked.

“No,” Gwen replied. “And I’d like to keep it that way. The last thing I need is for people to start questioning how dangerous I really am.”

Dorian worry seemed to grow, but he gave a heavy sigh.

“Alright, if you do one thing for me.”

Gwen gave him a suspicious look, “What?”

“You give Cullen a second chance,” he said flatly.

“Dorian-,” Gwen began, annoyed, but he held up a hand.

“No, wait. I don’t deny he’s got some groveling to do, but you’re being just as stubborn.”

“Dorian, I told you-,”

“I know; he’s an ex-templar and it could be a problem,” Dorian said. “However, he clearly cares for you, Gwen, and Herald or not, you need to let people into your life. You’re not a circle mage anymore, you’re the savior of Thedas, Andraste’s Herald. Wouldn’t you rather be with someone who, for once, actually cares about _you_?”

Gwen gave him a curious look, “You know, you never seemed to be the religious sort.”

“I’m not fond of either chantry,” Dorian said. “But I do believe that Andraste or even the Maker Himself sent you. You saw what the future will be without you; Thedas will fall apart. And given what you’re going to be facing, you need people you can trust.”

“I still don’t see how Cullen ties into this,” Gwen said stubbornly.

“Inquisitor, you _need_ someone like him in your life, who will be there for you, no matter the cost,” Dorian said firmly. “If people try to call it out against you, there’s hardly grounds for it. He’s not part of the Order anymore, he’s the Commander of the Inquisition. I think you forget that sometimes.”

Gwen looked back over to where Cullen stood, watching as pairs of soldiers walked through forms with blunted swords. She could see shadows of the Order in the ridged way he stood, the way his eyes were always flickering around the room, and his constant need for control, but her thoughts traveled back to how playful he’d been with the Iron Bull. Perhaps Dorian was right; she did often forget that Cullen wasn’t a templar anymore.

“And what about you?” Gwen asked. He didn’t answer right away, but seemed to give the question some thought.

“Me, I have come to admire a brave, stubborn, and kind woman who I believe can put the world right, when no one else can,” he said. “So far, you are the first person who accepted me wholly and unequivocally, even after... well, it’s nice to know there’s one person in the south who doesn’t glare at me suspiciously.”

Silence fell between them, and Gwen tried to think of something to say. She remembered the conversation they’d had shortly after she’d been named Inquisitor. It had been intense, and Gwen had done her best to remind Dorian that there was still hope. He’d laughed, but it seemed like her words had an effect on him.

“So, I’m your hope for this world,” she said.

“Partly,” Dorian said with a shrug. “But you’re also a woman I want to see come out better for all of this. I want you to find happiness, especially since I still believe that there will come a day when people will have forgotten what you did for them.”

She was touched by Dorian’s words, as much as she was frightened of all that implied. The last thing she wanted was to end up in another cage.

“I’ll think about,” she said. “But I make no promises.”

“Fair enough,” Dorian said. “And I’ll see what I can find about your mark.”

With a heavy sigh, Gwen gave him a grateful look.

“Thank you,” she said and was about to take another sip of her glass when a messenger approached them.

“Excuse me, Inquisitor,” he said. “The Lady Ambassador has requested yours and the Commander's presence.”

“Alright, I’ll head right over.”

She handed her glass back over to Dorian and made for the Great Hall.

 

* * *

 

The moon was high in the sky by the time that Gwen finally made it back to her room, where a fire was lit. Even with the fire, her room was still cold, and she shivered. Not all the windows had been fixed or furnished to help keep the place warm. Her bed wasn’t even much to speak of, as it was little more than a cot.

She walked over to her bedside table and lit  the candles with flicker of magic. As the room lit up, Gwen caught sight of  a parcel lying on her bed.

Frowning, she picked it up. It was soft, and rather bulky. Inside, she found a green coat and gloves.

When she unfurled it, she stared in amazement. The coat was beautiful, a dark forest green, and trimmed in soft, white fur. Unable to resist, she buried her face in the softness of it.

The front of the coat was embroidered in silver, gold, and copper thread, in a style oddly reminiscent of the paintings Solas had started in the rotunda. She turned her attention to the gloves.

As she lifted them from the package, a slip of paper fall to the ground. Bending over, she frowned at her name in Cullen’s handwriting on the front, and then again after she opened the letter.

_Lady Trevelyan,_

_I thought that this might be of use to you with how cold you’ve been._

_I also wanted to ask for your forgiveness for my behavior in the mountains. I realize that I hurt you deeply by belittling your affection towards me in Haven, and I hope that you can one day come to forgive me._

_In the time being, know that I admire you and you will always have my loyalty._

_Sincerely,_

_Your Loyal Commander,_

_Cullen_

Gwen stared at the note, her throat knotted in confusion.

Maker, how did he afford this? It must have cost him a great deal of money. There was no way she could accept this, but she couldn’t return it tonight. And… would it be so bad if she used it as a blanket in the meantime? It was very soft after all, and warm. Already her hands felt warmer than they had in days.

She quickly changed into her nightclothes and crawled into bed. She threw the coat over her with a smile the fur soft and comforting against her face. It was almost a shame that she’d have to give it back.

Yawning, Gwen curled up in her cot and pulled the blankets and the coat closer to her. The fur against her cheek reminded her of being carried in the mountains. She’d felt so safe Cullen’s his arms.

Perhaps Dorian was right; she should try to mend things with Cullen, even if she couldn’t keep the coat.


	10. Interlude: The Proper Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A interlude where we learn where the inspiration for the green coat came from.

It was mid afternoon by the time Gwen decided to release them from the meeting. She  gathered her own paperwork and headed for the door. Cullen watched her go, wishing that just for once she’d look at him the way she had in Haven. She didn’t, and Cullen tried to swallow back his disappointment.

“Are you ever going to start talking to her again, or will you just stare longingly after her until you’re gray?” Leliana asked.

“W-what do you mean?” Cullen asked, caught completely off guard.

Leliana and Josephine looked at each other.

“Cullen, we all know that you _like_ Lady Trevelyan,” Josephine said. “I even think she knows it. What we don’t understand is why you two are not speaking anymore. Except when it concerns work.”

Cullen tried to think of a way out of this, but the way Leliana was eyeing him told him that she wasn’t going to let him leave.

“Fine,” Cullen said, giving both women a small glare. “Lady Trevelyan and I… I might have said something to upset her.”

“Such as…?” Leliana pressed.

“She kissed me and then I opened my mouth and made it sound like I thought her kiss was nothing, alright!”

He started stacking his own reports and papers, wanting to get out of the room as quickly as possible. Josephine smacked him upside the head.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“How could you be such an idiot? She _kissed_ you. That’s practically like laying her heart out for you,” Josephine said.

“I thought she was just being nice,” Cullen said, glancing at Leliana, who was shaking her head into her palm. “She flirts with people on a regular basis, and I wasn’t exactly hiding that I was... concerned for her. So…”

Leliana sighed and looked up at the ceiling as she said, “and here I thought Alistair was terrible.”

Cullen felt his face heat up at the mention of Alistair. He’d trained with Alistair as a templar, and had always thought that he was a little naive. The idea that he was being considered worse than him at wooing a woman, was a little embarrassing, but Leliana didn’t really give him time to dwell on that.

“For future reference, Cullen, when a woman who has a hard time trusting people— _like_ Lady Trevelyan—goes up and gives you a kiss, you don’t tell her it’s nothing.”

“I wasn’t sure—”

“Cullen, she kissed you. _Kissed_ you! If she’d cared more for anyone else, she would have kissed them instead,” Leliana said, looking him straight in the eye. She looked behind Cullen to Josephine, and both women gave a nod.

“This needs some serious damage control,” Josephine said, taking up her notepad. “A gift of some kind. Perhaps a gown, or flowers, or—”

“No, a gown is little too much at this point. She’ll never accept it,” Leliana said thoughtfully. “It needs be something that would actually be useful for her. Makes it harder to say no.”

“Now, wait just a minute,” Cullen broke in. “I’m not going to bribe Lady Trevelyan with a gift. That’s… that’s-”

“You’re not bribing, you’re trying to tell someone that you care about them,” Leliana broke in. “And Cullen, you have a lot of groveling to do.”

She leaned against the table, thinking hard. Seeing no way out of this, Cullen sighed.

“I suppose I could commission some new battle robes for her. We have better resources now.”

Both women looked at him as if he had just uttered a disgusting cuss word.

“Cullen, are you apologizing to the Inquisitor, or Gwen?” Josephine asked in a very serious tone.

“I—What? It’s the same person.”

“No,” Josephine said carefully. “One is your superior. The other is a woman who you’re trying to woo. You don’t give women armor. It’s not romantic. You give them flowers, jewelry, nice clothes—”

“I’ve got it!” Leliana said, clapping her hands together. “A coat to go over that awful beagie uniform of hers. She’s been complaining about the cold, and it would be a good way to bring some color to that uniform.”

“I thought we were already getting her something else,” Cullen said, thinking back to the private meeting they’d had a week ago where they had discussed changing the uniform. Leliana waved him off.

“That’s from all of us. This is from _you_. Now, what kind of material should we use?”

“Velvet?” Josephine suggested, but both Leliana and Cullen shook his head.

“No, wool. Perhaps soft, but this is to keep her warm in the mountains,” Leliana said. “Lady Trevelyan is too practical to go walking around in velvet.”

“Agreed, and it should be a shade of green or brown. It will bring out the color of her eyes. And lined with white Fennec fur or ermine—”

“No, wolf, and the coat should be green.”

It took Cullen a moment to realize that he had spoken, but both women were staring at him in surprise. He felt himself blush again and looked down at his papers.

“Why wolf?” Josephine asked.

“It suggests strength, power, and a… a mysteriousness that I think Lady Trevelyan carries with her.”

Both women were silent, thinking this over for a moment. Cullen began to wonder if he’d been mistaken to suggest the wolf fur, but it just seemed to match her better than something small and cowering like fennec or ermine.

“I like it,” Leliana said. “It suits her much better than the other two, and wolf pelts are so soft.”

Josephine nodded and started sketching something on her notes. After a moment she turned her pad for the others to see.

“What about this?”

It was a good design, Cullen admited. The coat had fur lining the neck and hood, with some tuffs coming out of the shoulder, and it came down to about her knees. But there was something missing.

“It should have some matching gloves,” he said. “She’s always trying to warm her hands. Fingerless, like the ones she wears with her battle robes.”

Both women nodded in approval, and Josephine quickly sketched a pair. Cullen gave a nod of approval, and Josephine smiled as she looked back to her work.

“I’ll have the tailors give me some cloth samples and estimates on the price. I’ll do my best to make it affordable.”

“I have money from my days as a Templar,” Cullen said, a little surprised by how much he was getting into this.

“That’s good,” Leliana said. “But you’ll upset Lady Trevelyan all over again if you spend every last coin you have on this. Leave it to me and Josie. We’ll make sure that it’s good quality, without leaving you destitute.”

Cullen relented. Secretly, he was glad. As this discussion had gone on, he’d begun to worry how heavily he’d have to scrape together for such a magnificent gift, but Leliana and Josephine clearly knew what they were doing.

He’d kept quiet about it, but with each passing day he’d begun to worry that there was no chance for him to mend bridges with Gwen. Even now he felt nervous that this might not work.

“Are you sure this will work?” he asked, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“Unless you’re lying about what you did to upset her, yes,” Leliana said. “Show her that you care, and she’ll forget it soon enough.”

“Never underestimate what a gift can do for an apology, especially if you wish to get on a woman’s good side,” Josephine said.

Cullen looked down at his paperwork. He’d been working with Leliana and Josephine for months now, but he’d never felt as close to them as he did now.

“Look, ah. Thanks,” he mumbled. “I’m still not sure it will work, but I do appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Leliana said. “Anything that will get you to talk about something _other_ than training and trebuchets. It’s good to know something can distract you from being a workaholic.”

“I’m not a workaholic.”

“Yes, you are,” Josephine said. “But don’t worry; it gives Lady Trevelyan plenty of time to see you without your shirt on. You’ve got a very good figure Commander.”

Both women burst out laughing as Cullen’s face went scarlet. Cullen felt himself smile a little. They might have been laughing at his expense, but for the first time in a long time, he felt at home.


	11. The Green Coat

As the morning light poured in, Gwen woke to the feeling of something soft caressing her cheek. Soft like Cullen’s robes or kittens or—

Gwen jerked upright, pulling off the coat she’d found the previous night. By the morning light she could see just how nice it was. The wool was a deep forest green, and stitched with multiple layers for warmth. And white fur was not easy to come by. The previous night Gwen had thought it was fennec fur, but looking at it more closely, she was starting to wonder if it was wolf instead. The matching gloves were much the same.

Her eyes fell on the note that had been left with it. Picking it up she read over it again, her eyes resting on the final lines.

_For the time being, know that I admire you and will always have my loyalty._

_Sincerely,_

_Your Loyal Commander Cullen_

She shook herself and folded up the note, slipping it into the coat pocket.

She couldn’t keep this. It must have cost Cullen a great deal of money, or the Inquisition’s money.

Dressing herself, Gwen silently prayed that Cullen would be in the Great Hall. She wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. She wondered what in Thedas had possessed him to give her such an expensive gift. She never could accept something so lavish from him.

As soon as she was dressed Gwen grabbed the coat and gloves before heading down to the Great Hall.

When she walked into the Great Hall, Gwen held the coat and gloves close to her. She tried not to look at anyone, afraid that they’d ask what she was holding. She had to manage this before it got too far and everyone noticed.

To her great relief, Cullen was in the hall eating—more like picking at his food—with Cassandra. Gwen approached them cautiously, unsure of how to pull Cullen away from Cassandra. They had spoken little since the mountain pass, and she was keenly aware they hadn’t, in fact, resolved anything.

“Cullen, just go and talk to her. She's not that stubborn,” Cassandra urged him.

“Are we talking about the same woman? She's very stubborn when she wants to be,” Cullen replied.

His attention was the caught by her, and he quickly stood up. Despite herself, Gwen had to bite back a laugh at Cullen’s reaction to her approach. Even now he looked like a nervous chantry boy.

“Inquisitor,” he said, and then his sight fell on what she had in her hands. He opened his mouth to speak, but Gwen spoke up first.

“I found this in my room,” she said, holding it out to him.

“Yes,” Cullen said, his hand reaching up to rub his neck. “I thought you could use a new coat, so you don’t have to wear your battle robes all the time.”

“I can’t take this,” Gwen said, her voice rising. “Cullen, this had to cost you a great deal.”

“N-no, it didn’t. I mean— it wasn’t a problem,” he stammered out, and then winced.

“Look,” he tried again. “You’ve been freezing since we left Haven and I know you don’t have much money to spare, so I thought...”

His words trailed off and Gwen saw Cassandra roll her eyes and shake her head. Cullen’s pause, however, gave Gwen a chance to break in.

“But you don’t have that much either,” she protested.

To her surprise, Cullen only shrugged. “I had some money from my time as a templar, as well as what I’ve been paid by the Inquisition. It was my money to do with as I wished.”

“I know but...” She was running out of excuses to reject him without blatantly insulting him.

“By the Void,” Cassandra said. “It's a nice coat. Stop your complaining and take it.”

Gwen and Cullen shuffled and looked away from each other.

His gaze off her, Gwen ran her hand along the soft white fur that trimmed the coat.

It _was_ very soft... She couldn’t deny its appeal. It was still too much. She couldn’t accept it.

Just as she was about to hand it back to him, Leliana’s called out.

“Is that the coat? Let me see it!”

Before Gwen could stop her, Leliana took the jacket and held it up to her. She smiled as she looked at it before eyeing Cullen.

“You’re right, the green was much better than the brown. This brings out the color of her eyes.”

Gwen glared at Leliana, “You knew about this?”

“Of course I did. Cullen has more of a sense of fashion then I would have expected from a templar, but he needed some advice with the cut that would best suit you. Let’s see how it looks.”

Gwen gave one last helpless struggle against accepting the gift.

“Look, it’s really quite nice, but far too much. I can’t take it.”

“Leliana, if it makes her uncomfortable-,” Cullen began, but Leliana cut him off.

“No, stand your ground. She needs to get use to the idea of people giving her gifts. Friends and allies alike.”

Leliana gave one of her sweetest smiles and held the jacket up for Gwen.

“Come on, let’s see it on you.”

Gwen sighed and slid her arms into the sleeves. As the fur touched her skin, Gwen gave a small smile. It had been a long time since she’d had anything this nice.

“And the gloves,” Leliana urged, and scowling, Gwen complied.

She turned so both of them could see her. To her surprise, Leliana’s delighted smile widened further. Cullen, looked like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

“Put the hood up,” Leliana urged, and Gwen did so.

“You look beautiful,” Leliana said. “Doesn’t she Cullen?”

“Yes,” Cullen said, still unable to keep his eyes off her. For the first time since Haven, Gwen felt her heart starting to pound.

“You’re still not convinced?” Leliana asked, misunderstanding what her silence meant. She took her hand then and started leading her away. “Then we must get a trusted opinion.”

She led Gwen up the stairs and away from Cullen, and all the way to the rotunda. Gwen stared at Leliana dumbly, unsure how she’d gotten into this situation. But as they approached the stairs, Gwen tugged her hand free.

“Leliana, wait.”

The spymaster turned to face Gwen.

“It doesn’t matter what I think, I can’t accept this coat,” she said.

“And why not?”

“Because… because it implies that something's going on between me and Cullen, and there isn’t,” Gwen said stubbornly.

“Gwen, it’s an apology, nothing more,” Leliana said. “You don’t have to take it as anything more.”

“That’s not how it usually works,” Gwen pointed out.

“No, it isn’t. But does Cullen really strike you as the type to bribe a woman with gifts?”

“No, but-”

“Well, then stop worrying. Now where is—Ah! Dorian, come here.”

Leliana waved at Dorian who was sorting through a pile of books. When he looked up he began to speak.

“Ah, Leliana, I’ve been meaning to come and talk to you and Josephine. Both Solas and I agree that this latest installment of books is rather pathetic and of more use to an apprentice mage than anyone else. Can you please broaden our horizons?”

“That can wait,” she said, pulling Gwen forward. “Right now, we need your opinion on this jacket. Does it not suit her?”

Amazement filled Dorian’s expression as he looked Gwen up and down.

“My, my, where ever did you get such an exquisite coat. Is that wolf fur?”

“It is,” Leliana said with a nod.

“I can’t take it,” Gwen said, beginning to pull the coat off. “If I accept it Cullen will think—”

“It’s from Cullen?” Dorian interrupted, an eyebrow raising.

“Yes,” Gwen replied. “I think he’s trying to soften me up.”

“Oh no, my dear; he’s groveling. If he was just trying to soften you up he wouldn’t have gone through so much trouble,” Dorian replied.

“Either way, I can’t accept it. If he—”

“Just how many nice things do you have Gwen?”

“I don’t see—” Gwen began.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“Yes, but—”

“Could you buy yourself something this nice?”

“No, but—”

“Then take it. It’s a nice coat and all Cullen is trying to do is to apologize. There’s nothing harmful in that, is there?” Dorian asked.

Gwen scowled at him. She could think of several occasions where gifts became invitations to men and women alike. But as she thought about it, that wasn’t really Cullen. He wasn’t sly or sneaky; he just stumbled along, and sometimes, he managed to do something sweet. The likelihood that he’d try to take advantage of her was very slim.

“Alright,” she relented. “I’ll keep it.”

Leliana smiled and said, “excellent. Now, if you don’t mind, I must get back to work.”

Sighing, Gwen turned and made her way back to the hall. To her surprise, however, Dorian followed her.

“I was just thinking I could use a bit of food myself,” he said, feigning innocence when she gave him a skeptical look.

“Right, and it has nothing to do with you wanting to see how things play out.”

“You wound me, Inquisitor. I merely wish to eat with a friend.”

Before she could dispute it, they had entered the Great Hall.

For a moment, Gwen felt a great sense of relief when she couldn’t see Cullen, but then he stood from the table where he’d been obscured from her vision.

“I said I would tell her, Cassandra. In my own time.”

He stormed off, almost bumping into Gwen.

“Oh, Inquisitor, I… um… Did you make up your mind about the coat?” he asked, his face flushing. He began to rub the back of his neck.

“Yes,” Gwen said. “It was a thoughtful gift. Thank you.”

Cullen still looked uncomfortable, but nodded, “Right, well… you do look… very beautiful—I-I mean…”

She gave him a smile, he was trying after all, and said, “thank you, Cullen.”

He only gave a quick smile, before he bowed and left, both she and Dorian watching. Gwen felt a multitude of confused emotions.

One moment he was reaching out to her, trying to start something with her. The next, he was running away, like he was afraid of her.

Even if it was in the midsts of a battle, she’d thought she’d made her own feeling perfectly clear. She liked him.

Shaking her head, Gwen made for one of the tables and started eating. She’d go and talk with Cullen later, when things had time to cool down.

 

* * *

 

Later that afternoon, Gwen made her way down to the makeshift desk Cullen had set up in the courtyard, green coat wrapped around her. It was warm, and covered up the awful beige uniform. Josephine said they were working on other outfits, but Gwen didn’t want to press when they already had limited resources.

As she descended the stairs, she heard Cullen giving orders to the Inquisition’s soldiers. He’d been hard at work since they’d arrived at Skyhold, doing everything he could to make sure fortress was secure.

As she stepped down onto the last step, Cullen barked one more order before turning his attention to her.

“Inquisitor,” he said.

“Hello,” she said. “I wanted to see how you were getting on.”

“Fine,” he said and straightened up, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “We set up as best we could in Haven, but could never prepare for an Archdemon, or whatever that beast was. With some time we might have…”

“Do you ever sleep?” she teased.

He looked worried, briefly, before he turned back to the papers and maps spread across the table. When he spoke, his voice was determined.

“If Corypheus strikes again, we may not be able to withdraw… and I wouldn’t want to. We must be ready. Work on Skyhold is underway, guard rotations established. We should have everything on course within the week. We will not run from here, Inquisitor.”

“I didn’t think we would. You’re a good commander, Cullen. Haven was proof enough.”

“If that’s what you’re judging me by, you must have had poor examples of commanders,” he said, still not looking at her.

“I don’t know any who could have gotten us out of that situation, or saved so many.”

He finally looked up.

“Thank you, but we’re here because of you. Thankfully, most of our people made it to Skyhold, but it could have been worse. Moral was low, though it’s improved greatly since you accepted the role of Inquisitor.”

She fidgeted a little. The title was better than _Herald of Andraste_ , but she still felt a little strange hearing it.

“Inquisitor Trevelyan. It sounds odd, don’t you think?”

“Not at all,” he replied without hesitation.

“Is that the official response?” Gwen asked, a little smile starting to inch across her face. To her surprise, Cullen actually laughed as he straightened, and looked her directly in the eye.

“I suppose it is. But it’s also the truth. We needed a leader; you have proven yourself.”

“You really think that?”

It took her a moment to realize that she’d actually said this aloud, or how much it truly worried her. She was one of the youngest members of the Inquisition. Even Josephine was only two years younger than Cullen, and she felt so out of place, like someone would one day wake up and realize they’d made a mistake.

Cullen seemed to sense her worry, and he reached out and touched her arm as he said, “Yes. I do.”

Her skin tingled where he held her.

“Thank you, Cullen,” she said with a smile. He smiled back at her, too. Before she could think better of it, she found herself speaking again.

“Our escape from Haven… It was close. I didn’t say it in the mountain pass, but I’m relieved that you- that so many made it out.”

“As am I,” Cullen said, and she could see the relief in his eyes. But all too quickly doubt seemed to fill his expression, and he looked away.

Gwen gave an internal sigh. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so hard with him in the mountain pass. Now, she was beginning to wonder if she could ever mend that bridge.

Just as she began to turn away though, Cullen spoke up.

“You stayed behind, you could have-”

He reached out and grabbed her hand, stopping her. When she turned back to face him, he stared steadily at her.

“I will not allow the events at Haven to happen again. You have my word.”

She could feel a small smile creeping across her face and she looked up into Cullen’s eyes. Whatever tension that had been between them, it was lost.

Looking away for a moment, Gwen brushed her hair out of her face and said, “I was just about to go and have some lunch with a few friends. Would you like to join us?”

He didn't answer right away, but let go of her hand and looked down at his papers and maps.

“I… I'd like to, but there's a lot of work I have to do,” he said.

Gwen shook her head. She was not going to be so easily put off. Reaching out and she snatched away the reports he was reading.

“Hey!” Cullen said, his expression becoming annoyed as he tried to grab the papers back. “Give those back.”

“No,” Gwen said, dancing out of his reach. “As your Inquisitor, I must insist that you take a break.”

“Gw- Inquisitor, I need those. Will you please return them,” he said, trying to grab them back.

“I will,” she said with a coy smile. “If you agree to come and have lunch.”

He scowled and made one more attempt to grab the reports, backing Gwen into a wall, but she managed to hide them behind her back. He trapped her by putting one of his arms up to block the way to the stairs.

She smirked at him as he glared at her, and it was as she was gazed into his amber eyes that she realized just how close they were.

“Inquisitor, may I please have those reports back?” He repeated, but not as forcefully as he’d said before.

He was close. Really close. She hadn’t been this close to him since he had carried her to camp in the mountains. She had liked his smell, which had been musty with a faint scent of elderflowers and something else she couldn’t quite place. It would be so easy to lean up and kiss him.

Her heart was pounding loudly at the thought, and it felt like time had frozen around her, waiting for her to make a choice. She wasn’t even sure if she was breathing.

 _You’re not suppose to be feeling this. Remember what happened the last time you gave in,_ she thought.

The thought shattered the moment.

Gwen quickly turned away.

Looking down so she didn’t have to see Cullen’s face, Gwen pulled out the papers she’d been holding back.

“Excuse me, I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said.

“Are you alright, Inquisitor?” he asked, worried.

“Of course,” Gwen said, her voice rising. “I just—. Excuse me, I have to go.”

She slipped away from him and dashed up the stairs before he could stop her. She didn’t stop walking until she was at the top of the stairs and out of Cullen’s sight. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the wall, trying to calm her heart.

What was going on?

_Don’t be an idiot. You know exactly what’s going on. You’re falling in love. You’re falling in love and it terrifies you._

No. She _was not_ falling in love. She just felt a strong attraction to Cullen. That was all.

Or was it?

Was it possible that she was lying to herself because it was more comfortable than the truth?

Gwen shook her head. She needed to distract herself, to get rid of this giddy feeling she felt inside her. She didn’t need to know Cullen that well to know that he wanted commitment, a serious relationship. She’d never had a relationship like that. Perhaps she could care for him for a few months, but for the rest of her life?

Sliding her hands into her pockets, she felt something poke at her. Pulling it out, she recognized the note Cullen had left with the jacket. Despite herself, she opened it, her eyes falling on the last lines.

_For the time being, know that I admire you and you will always have my loyalty._

_Sincerely,_

_Your loyal Commander,_

_Cullen_

Her fingers brushed over the words, a small smile crossing her face.

 _Her_ loyal Commander.

It surprised her, but she didn’t hate the idea. What would it be like to actually give your heart to someone, fully? To dare to actually care about someone instead of just having a brief dalliance?

She did care about Cullen, even if he did annoy her sometimes. Perhaps what she just needed was time to get to know him better, than the idea of commitment wouldn’t be so frightening to her.

The was a burst of wind and Gwen quickly folded the letter up, placing it back in her pocket before heading for the tavern.

 

* * *

 

“I have to go!” Gwen said, and ducked away from Cullen, dashing up the stairs before he could tell her that he would like to go.

He stared after her, wondering what in Thedas he’d done to upset her again. Had he made her uncomfortable by allowing them to get that close? He hadn’t meant to corner her. She’d just backed up to the wall, and the next thing he knew, they were close enough to kiss. In fact, he’d almost thought about doing it.

But then fear had filled her eyes, and once again, Cullen wanted to kick himself. How could he have been so stupid?

“You didn’t do anything.”

Cullen started. Cole was standing right beside him.

“What did you say?” Cullen asked, unsure if he’d heard the boy right.

“You think it’s your fault she ran. But it isn’t. She's just scared her heart will be broken again. Shattered like it was by her father.”

Cullen felt his back go rigid as he said, “Cole, are you reading Gwen’s mind?”

“Only a little,” Cole said, looking straight at Cullen. “She’s too bright. I can only feel her pain when she’s around you and Dorian. Both of you have hurts. She understands what it’s like to feel helpless… _Uldred laughing at me. Waking up from nightmares, trying not to scream. I want to let her in, but I feel broken, unworthy—”_

“Stop it!”

It took a moment for Cullen to realize he’d actually spoken aloud, he was so angry.

“Don’t ever do that again. Do you understand?”

Cole looked affronted as he said, “You don’t have to be afraid. I help. Heal hurts. Like the one you’ve carried with you since Ferelden. Uldred asked questions he shouldn't have asked.”

“Get. Away. From. Me.” Cullen said, his hand resting on his sword. Before he could draw it however, Cole had vanished.

He looked around, but the boy was nowhere to be seen. At that moment however, Cassandra came down the stairs, with a raised brow.

“Is there a reason why you’re about to draw your sword?” she asked, leaning against his table.

“I… no. It was that boy, Cole,” he said, taking his hand away from his sword hilt. “Why is he still around?”

“Because Gwen doesn't think he dangerous. Why?”

“It’s nothing,” Cullen grumbled, and turned his attention back to his work.

“Alright,” Cassandra said. “I was coming to check in on you.”

“Why does everyone feel the need to check in on me?” Cullen snapped.

“Is that tone really called for?” Cassandra asked, but stopped when Cullen glared at her. She gave a snort and got up to leave. “Alright, I see you’re in a mood.”

She left before Cullen could make any response, clearly put out by him losing his temper with her. He’d have to apologize to her later.

 

* * *

 

 

For the next few days, Gwen made an effort to let Cullen know that things were still good between them. At first, Cullen had been nervous, but Gwen had broken it by bringing some sweet rolls to the next meeting and made a point to hand one to Cullen with a smile. There had been some giggling from Leliana and Josephine, but things were much easier between them after that.

In fact, for the next several days, they two of them seemed to be getting along quite well with each other. It wasn’t until one afternoon when Gwen went to meet Josephine in her new office for a meeting, that a problem arose.

Gwen was the first to arrive at the meeting and found herself alone with Josephine. The Ambassador nodded to Gwen as she straightened a stack of papers before saying, “we’ll just wait for the others.”

Cullen was the next to arrive, and Gwen couldn’t help but notice that he did not look well. It wasn’t just that his face seemed flushed or that he barely said a word as Josephine greeted him. It was the way that Cullen walked in and immediately leaned against the wall.

“Cullen?” she said, and reached out. Abruptly, he raise his hand to stop her, before closing his eyes and swallowing.

“Give him this.” Josephine said quickly, holding out a bucket.

There was a brief moment of confusion, until Cullen grabbed the bucket from Josephine and began to vomit. Gwen held back the urge to gag, and placed a soothing hand on his back. She was about to reach for her magic to help him when she stopped. She wasn’t sure Cullen would be alright with her using magic on him.

It was over soon enough, and Josephine came forward to take the bucket from Cullen.

“I’ll have one of the servants take care of this,” she said and walked out of the room.

“Do you need to take a sick day?” Gwen asked, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” he rasped. “It’s passed.”

Gwen frowned. Was he intentionally being vague with her? What did he mean by “it’s passed?”

Noticing her expression, Cullen gave a tired sigh.

“We’ll talk after this meeting,” he said, sounding exhausted.

Before she could ask questions, Josephine returned with Leliana and said, “We will begin when you’re ready, Inquisitor.”

The three of them followed her over to her desk, waiting for her to begin the meeting.

“I’ve made some inquiries into the Imperial court,” Josephine began. “The sooner we deal with the threats to the Empress, the better. The political situation in Orlais is dangerously unstable. It will complicate matters.”

“Everything in the Empire complicates matters,” Cullen said in irritation. “It’s the Orlesian national pastime.”

“Turn your nose up at the grand game if you like, Commander. But we play for higher stakes and to the death,” Leliana replied.

For a moment, Gwen was thought one or the other might push the point, but Josephine gave Leliana a pointed look, and she let the matter drop.

“How will instability at the Orlesian court complicate matters?” Gwen asked.

“It complicates things because we have no room to make mistakes,” Josephine replied. “The court's disapproval can be as great as the Venatori. We must be vigilant.”

“Sounds like one of my father’s parties,” Gwen said. “They could be cut-throat at times.”

“You’ve had experience with the courts?” Leliana asked.

“I attended a few in the Free Marches,” Gwen replied. “My father ensured that his children wouldn’t embarrass him.”

“That is good. From what I’ve heard of Lord Trevelyan’s events, they are extravagant ones.”

“That’s an understatement,” Gwen said, grimacing.

“If she knows the elements of the game, then perhaps we’re in better shape than we thought,” Leliana said. “We now have more time to focus on other things, like finding the assassin.”

Josephine still looked concerned, but Gwen placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” Gwen said. “We’ll protect the Empress, no matter what.”

“I pray you’re right,” Josephine replied. “If that future you saw is true, we are all in terrible danger,” she said.

“How so?”

“Orlais hold Tevinter at bay. All of Thedas could be lost if the Empire falls to Corypheus,” she said. “Luckily, I might have a way in. Celene is holding peace talks under the auspices of a grand masquerade. Every power in Orlais will be there. And it’s the perfect place for an assassin to hide.”

“A grand masquerade? I need to go shopping,” Gwen said.

Her mother used to take her shopping before a ball. One of the few signs of affection her mother ever dared to show under Lord Bran Trevelyan’s eyes.

“I’m glad you’re looking forward to it,” Josephine replied with a smile. “Unfortunately, we don’t have enough sway with the court to arrange an invitation. Perhaps a few more alliances…”

“Or soldiers,” Cullen cut in.

Josephine looked irritated, but let it go.

“Either way, we need a greater presence in Orlais, and soon.”

“My brother is currently in Orlais,” Gwen said. “I don’t know if it would be of much use, but it might help.”

“It could, though your father's name carries the greater weight. Could he be persuaded to assist?” Josephine asked.

“He… might,” Gwen said hesitantly. “Though you might want to avoid bringing me up.”

“I see,” Josephine replied. “I will do what I can. In the meantime, the sooner you get back out there, the better. The people need to see the Inquisition at work.”

Gwen nodded, “My intent is to leave as soon as I meet with Varric’s friend. He said she’d be here tomorrow.”

“Good,” Josephine said. “You’ve made an impression on the people, we can’t let their awe of you die away.”

“I understand,” Gwen replied. “I’ll get back that out there as soon as I can.”

With that, the meeting concluded.

Gwen began to head back to the Great Hall, when Cullen reached out to stop her.

“Will you come to my office, please?” he asked.

Gwen followed him.

Cullen led her through the Great Hall and to the rotunda.

They exited a door that had been originally closed off and onto a bridge that connected to the wall towers, recently fixed.

Following him across the bridge, Gwen couldn’t help but notice that Cullen still didn’t look well. She resisted the urge to ask again if he was alright.

When they entered the tower, it was to the discovery that it was already fairly liveable. The room had been cleaned out, candles were lit, and there were shelves with a few books, and a desk. Except for a draft from a gaping hole in the roof and a pile of wood in the corner, the room was better equipped than many in Skyhold .

“Looks good,” Gwen said, pulling her coat closer around her. “A bit cold, though.”

“Apologies,” Cullen said sheepishly. “The roof still needs fixing.”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Someone gave me this nice coat to keep me warm.”

Cullen gave a small smile before looking down at his desk. Gwen followed his gaze and saw a small box sitting there. It was a philter box she realized.

“Do you need Lyrium?” she asked.

There was a pause for a moment, before he carefully said, “No.”

He didn’t look up at her, but continued to stare at the box. Gwen suddenly began to get the sense that Cullen was struggling with something. She waited a little longer before finally breaking the silence.

“You wanted to talk about something?”

“Yes,” Cullen finally said. “As leader of the Inquisition. You...”

He stopped, and gave a heavy sigh before continuing.

“There’s something I must tell you.”

“Of course,” she said. “Whatever it is, I’m willing to listen.”

“Right.” Cullen said curtly. “Thank you.”

His gaze then fell back on the philter.

“As I’m sure you know, Lyrium grants templars our abilities, but it controls us as well. Those cut off from it suffer—some go mad, others die.”

“I know,” Gwen said, wondering where this was going. “I’ve seen it happen.”

“I suppose you would, with your time healing templars,” Cullen said.

There was another pause, and Cullen seemed to be struggling with something before he finally spoke.

“We have secured a reliable source of lyrium for the templars here. But I… no longer take it.”

Gwen felt like her heart stop. Had she heard him correctly?

“You… you stopped?” she finally said.

“When I joined the Inquisition. It’s been months now,” he said.

“Cullen, this… this could kill you,” she said, unable to keep the worry out of her voice this time.

“It hasn’t yet,” he said, his gaze still not meeting hers.

Lyrium withdrawal was dangerous, and if Cullen wasn’t careful he could do real harm to himself. Continuing to use lyrium was little better, though. He probably still had several years, but eventually his memories would start to fade.

She could lose him either way, and that thought frightened her more than she thought it would.


	12. Lyrium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I will let you know that the next chapter will likely be posted around the same time next month.

The room felt too quiet as Cullen waited for Gwen to say something. She'd tried to hide it, but Cullen noticed her grimace regardless. His shoulders fell.

For a week now he’d tried to come up with a good way to bring this up, but there were so few ways to tell someone you admire that you’re doing something incredibly foolish in a desire to atone for horrific aspects of your past. He’d come into this with a practiced, measured explanation, and yet, when it had come time to tell her, his mouth had opened and he’d just started talking. Now he’d wished he’d stuck to what he’d practiced.

He watched as Gwen thought things over, waiting for her to say... _anything_.

“Alright,” Gwen finally said. “Why do you want to do this?”

Cullen breathed a sigh of relief. At least she wasn’t saying no outright. Still, he found that he couldn’t look at her as he spoke. He wanted to get this over with.

“After what happened in Kirkwall, I couldn’t… I will not be bound to the Order—or that life—any longer. Whatever the suffering, I accept it.”

The strength he felt compelled to seek her approval was startling but after having lost it in the mountains, and then frightening her in the courtyard he needed her to understand him.

“Alright,” she said. “Are you doing this alone?”

“No,” Cullen said without hesitation, finally looking up at her. “I would not put the Inquisition at risk. I’ve asked Cassandra to… monitor me. If my ability to lead is compromised, I will be relieved from duty.”

“Are you in pain?” she asked.

“I can endure it,” Cullen assured her, hoping that it would be enough. He didn’t want Gwen fretting over him.

“Alright,” she said finally. “Thank you for telling me.”

Cullen blinked in surprise. By the look on her face he’d thought that Gwen would disapprove.

“What?” Gwen asked.

“You’re worried,” he said, looking intently at her.

“Of course I’m worried,” Gwen said. “Lyrium withdrawal is not a joke. That doesn’t mean that I don’t approve of your choice. And I think you can do it.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He’d expected her to say no, to tell him that it was too dangerous. That he was being stupid. She knew what lyrium withdrawal could do.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“What? Yes,” he said quickly. “Forgive me, I just… I’m grateful that you accepted my choice.”

A small smile crossed her face, and she met his eye, “Well, you’re still barking orders at our soldiers, and I saw you knock Bull down, so I’m assuming you’re well enough.”

“It’s easier when the giant qunari has a blind side,” he replied.

“You’re underestimating yourself,” Gwen said. “You’re not weak, Cullen. Cassandra wouldn’t have asked you to lead the Inquisition’s forces if you were.”

Again, Cullen didn’t know what to say. She clearly didn’t know him as well as he’d thought. He looked down at his desk, staring at the lyrium box again.

“If you knew the things I’ve done, you wouldn’t feel that way,” he said at length. “All it would take for me to start taking the lyrium again is one bad day.”

Gwen’s hand suddenly came to rest on his own, and when he looked up at her there was kindness in her expression.

“Then we’ll make sure that day never comes,” she said. “And if you need my help, I’m here.”

His throat constricted at her words. Maker, why was he getting emotional about this?

He wanted to take her hand and hold it. Let her know the gratitude he felt. He was embarrassed enough by the situation, however, and didn’t.

“Cullen?” Gwen said, concerned.

“Sorry,” he said. “I appreciate it, but at this time…”

 _I'm still in denial that I have a chance with you, and I don't want to give you another reason to say no,_ he thought.

“I have Cassandra,” he finally said. “I think for the moment that will do.”

“Alright,” Gwen said straightened up, her hand leaving his. He almost reached up to take her hand again, but stopped himself.

There was a moment of awkward silence between them, before Gwen finally spoke up.

“I probably should get back to work,” she said.

“So should I,” Cullen agreed.

Gwen gave a brief nod before heading for the door. She paused for a moment at it, turning back to face him.

“I know that right now things seem bad, but it can get easier.”

“I know,” Cullen said. He’d heard this a lot from Cassandra already, and he was getting tired of it.

Gwen grimaced and looked down at the floor before taking a deep breath.

“I’m not just saying this because it’s what I was told to say in Ostwick,” she said. “I don’t know what it’s like to suffer from addiction, but I do know what it’s like to be hurt so deeply that you wonder if the wound will ever go away.”

“What makes you think that I was hurt?” Cullen asked wearily. He supposed that she, of all people, might have worked it out. Gwen seemed to have good insight when it came to people.

“The look you get in your eyes sometimes, especially when you talk about Ferelden,” she said.

She suddenly bit her lower lip, and for the first time since Cullen had known her, Gwen looked vulnerable.

“My…” she paused for a moment, as if reconsidering what she was about to say, and pressed on.

“I can’t say for certain that I’ve come to terms with what happened to me. What I can say is I can live with it, and after becoming part of the Inquisition I… I’m starting to trust people again. Something I haven’t really done for years.”

Cullen didn’t know what to say to that. Though, it was true; she was more trusting than when they’d first met. Perhaps she was right and one day, the nightmares wouldn’t be so terrifying and the illness and irritation from lyrium withdrawal wouldn’t be so bad. It was hard to believe.

“Thank you, Gwen,” he said softly.

He tried to think of more to say, but nothing came to him. In truth, he just wanted to have some time to himself; to get his bearings before he went back to work. Thankfully, Gwen caught on to his thoughts.

“I’ll let you be,” she said softly and then left, closing the door behind her. After a few moments, Cullen gave a sigh of relief.

“Well, that went better than I expected,” he said, and before he could be tempted, Cullen grabbed the box and threw it back into the drawer of his desk.

He returned to his work, pushing away the thoughts of lyrium, nightmares, and his feelings surrounding Gwen. That he would have to deal with another day.  

 

* * *

 

 

A few months ago, if anyone had told Gwen that she would not only be contemplating a relationship with an ex-templar, but be drinking in a tavern with a seeker, she would have laughed. Yet, here she was, sitting in the tavern with Cassandra, trying to help her calm down.

“I still can’t believe I let him trick me,” Cassandra said, glowering at her tankard. “I just sat there and let Varric spin his stories, eating them up like a child.”

“Come on, Cassandra,” Gwen said soothingly. “He was protecting his friend. Can you blame him?”

Cassandra fell silent, looking glumly down at her tankard.

“No,” she finally said. “I just… I suppose I’m still grieving. Ever since the Conclave I’ve gone over and over in my head what I could have done differently. If I could have save the Most Holy. If Varric had been honest with me, perhaps this might have been avoided.”

“I don’t think you could have done more than what you’ve already done,” Gwen said as kindly as she could. “As for Hawke, I honestly don’t think she would’ve come.”

Gwen remembered the look in Hawke’s eyes. While Hawke had kept her tone light, there had been a somberness in her manner that suggested that not all was right in her world. She wondered if she’d have that same look in her eyes as well, given time.

Reluctantly, Cassandra nodded. She began to trace her finger around the table, following the groves of the wood.

“It was so simple a year ago,” she said at length. “Leliana and I knew how we were going to fix the world. We’d get the mages and templars to come to a truce, and work out a new way of living for both sides.”

“It’s a nice idea,” Gwen said looking down at the table. “But I don’t think it would have worked. The mages never would have submitted to templar rule again.”

Cassandra looked up at Gwen for a moment, and then turned her gaze back to the table.

“Do you really have such doubt in the possibility of peace?” she asked.

“I believe that people don’t like change,” Gwen said. “Even if the mages and the templars came to some kind of agreement, everyone else wasn’t going to let the matter lie.”

“Which is why Divine Justinia intended on reinstating the Inquisition,” Cassandra said. “It was to be an authoritative group that would work to find common ground if no agreement could be reached. And we could work on certain elements of both groups.”

“Like what?” Gwen asked, wondering just what Cassandra had envisioned. She was only now just beginning to realize that she’d never really asked Cassandra what she intended with the Inquisition.

“Well… Cullen might be able to change the way the templars work.”

“Because he’s no longer taking lyrium?” Gwen asked, a knot tightening in her throat. It suddenly occurred to her that Cassandra might have suggested to Cullen to stop taking lyrium. “Is that why you offered him the position? To see if templars could be weaned off of lyrium?”

“Of course not,” Cassandra said with a scowl. “I offered it to him because after what happened in Kirkwall, Cullen was one of the people spearheading the truce between the mages and templars that remained there, and I saw his potential. The lyrium was his choice.”

A small sense of guilt rose up in Gwen. Of course Cassandra would never try to make Cullen do something like that. They were friends, and by the sound of it, Cassandra was the one working to keep Cullen healthy through his withdrawals.

“I’m sorry,” Gwen said, looking away from Cassandra. “Ever since he told me about his goal, it’s been on my mind. I’ve seen what lyrium withdrawal can do and—”

“Cullen is stronger than you think, Inquisitor,” Cassandra said slowly. “I won’t lie that it’s been rough for him, but he needs you to support him, not fret over him.”

“I know. That's why I said yes,” Gwen said. “But, he'll always have to fight the pull of lyrium.”

“I’m not blind to that Inquisitor,” Cassandra replied. “But Cullen wants this. He wanted to break away from that leash he’s been tied to since he first took his vows. We both knew that if he could, we could rebuild the Order to a better purpose.”  

“I thought that templars couldn’t cancel spells without lyrium,” Gwen said frowning.

“They can. Lyrium enhances their abilities.”

Gwen didn’t reply for a long moment. She’d always wondered why templars needed lyrium as their training didn’t require them to use it. But whenever she’d asked Lydia about it, she’d told Gwen that was not the case. Had Lydia just been repeating Chantry rhetoric?

“Tell me, Cassandra,” she said cautiously. “Just how deep in this is Cullen?”

“He’s over the worst,” Cassandra said. “He still get’s sick occasionally, when he doesn’t take care of himself. Especially when he doesn’t sleep. But… admittedly, I’m more worried about him slipping.”

“You think he will?”

Cassandra didn’t answer right away, but looked down at her ale, as if to give herself time to think.

“I think… I think that things are stressful right now,” she finally said. “Cullen has kept himself busy with work, but if he ever loses that, or the stress becomes too much… Cullen doesn’t have much beyond the Inquisition and that worries me.”

Again, Gwen was at a loss as for what to say. She understood Cassandra’s worry; if Cullen didn’t have goals or things to work towards, it left openings for relapses. Now he had the Inquisition, but everyone seemed to know that there would be a day when the Inquisition would no longer be needed, and what then.

“What about his family. Friends?” Gwen asked. “Perhaps he has someone special in his life.”

“He hasn’t seen his family since he left for Kirkwall,” Cassandra said. “I think he intends to try and see them again if he can. As for friends or loved ones… I’m not sure how to answer that one.”

Gwen cocked an eyebrow as she said, “does he have a potential someone in his life?

Cassandra blushed and cleared her throat.

“You’d have to answer that one Inquisitor.”

“Just so I know the worst: Are there betting pools going around?”

“You _have_ met Varric, yes?” Cassandra said with a smirk.

“Right,” Gwen said shaking her head. At this point, she shouldn’t have been surprised.

“So…” Cassandra began after a brief silent pause between them. “How are things with you and Cullen?”

“Better than they were, I guess,” she said, leaning down drinking from her tankard. “To be honest, I’m just trying to wrap my head around the idea that I’m the Inquisitor.”

Cassandra didn’t say anything, and Gwen thought she saw guilt in her expression. But it passed so quickly that she felt sure she had imagined it.

“I sometimes forget how young you are,” she said softly. “You act much older.”

“You don’t stay a child long in the circle,” Gwen replied. “At least, not in the Free Marches. When I met mages from other circles, they said it wasn’t that bad. They didn’t like being watched, but they were allowed to do things that weren’t allowed in my circle.”

“I wish I could say that I didn’t know what it’s like to have your childhood taken from you,” Cassandra said. “But I too found my childhood stripped from me when I was young.”

“Anthony?” Gwen asked, remembering how fondly Cassandra had spoken about him.

“Yes,” Cassandra said softly. “But… I’m not ready to talk about that.”

“I understand,” Gwen replied. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Jared.”

“Your older brother?”

“Yes.”

A warm smile came over Cassandra’s face.

“There’s nothing like an older brother, is there?”

“Jared’s the only reason I have any contact with my family,” Gwen said with a sad smile. “I think if he could have, he’d have stayed with me at the circle. It would have been nice.”

“Anthony was the only reason I stayed in Nevarra. Once he died, there was nothing holding me there.”

“I’m sorry you lost him,” she said softly. “If I lost Jared… I don’t even want to think about it actually. I haven’t seen him in years and I worry for him sometimes.”

“How so?”

Gwen paused before answering.

“My father is not the easiest person to get along with,” Gwen said. “And Jared sometimes finds it trying to be under his rule, but Lord Trevelyan is the head of the house and all the family look to him to solve their problems.”

“Sounds like he’s a complete bastard,” Cassandra said before taking another drink from her ale.

“You have no idea,” Gwen said with a hollow laugh.

“My uncle couldn’t give me the time of day,” Cassandra said. “He spent a lot of his time in the Crypts as he was a Mortalitasi.”

“A what?” Gwen asked, frowning at the word.

“A Mortalitasi,” Cassandra repeated. “In Nevarra we don’t burn the dead, we bury them. The Mortalitasi look after the dead and use them sometimes as tools.”

Gwen grimaced. She’d heard of such magic, but it was a rare circle that encouraged it at all, let alone to the extent Cassandra implied. Dorian himself had just shared his specialization with her recently. The thought of dealing with the undead made her stomach turn.

“I found it a bit revolting too,” Cassandra said with a laugh.

Gwen smiled. Before at Haven, Cassandra’d been her accuser, and later a bodyguard. Now, Gwen was wondering if she could one day be a friend. Cassandra gave her another weary smile and looked down at her tankard again.

“You’re not at jumpy as you were when you first arrived,” she noted.

Gwen shrugged.

“You’ve had my back,” she said. “I can at least trust you to look out for me.”

“I didn’t always,” Cassandra replied.

“If you’re talking about suspecting me for the murder of the Divine, I can’t say I blame you,” Gwen replied. “Most people are taught to be suspicious of us.”

“I’m not talking about that,” Cassandra said, finally looking up at her. “I’m talking about leaving you behind in Haven. I should have been more careful.”

“I told you to run,” Gwen said, cocking an eyebrow at her. “There was a huge Archdemon or dragon, or what have you, chasing after us. If you hadn’t run that dragon would have killed you. The only reason I didn’t get eaten was because Corypheus was more fond of playing with his food than most. You did the right thing.”

“I still should have been more careful,” she said. “You are our only hope for fixing this crisis, and I almost lost you.”

“You would have found a way Cassandra,” Gwen said, looking down at the table tiredly. “You’re resourceful, and I’m sure there’s more than one tool to fix this.”

“It is not because you are a tool, Inquisitor,” Cassandra said. “It’s because you were my charge.”

Gwen tried to smile, but she feared it was more of a grimace. Cassandra reached out to her, and Gwen stiffened at the touch. She forced herself to stay still as Cassandra spoke.

“Inquisitor, I meant what I said in the smithy. I have no regrets in choosing you as our leader.”

“I hope by the end of this, you still feel this way,” Gwen said, looking away from her.

“I think that whatever happens, my feelings won’t change,” she said. “You’ve done more than you know to help us. It’s because of that that I respect you.”

Gwen nodded. Cassandra seemed to accept it. She finished off her drink, and placed a few coins on the table.

“I suppose I should let you go and tell your advisers what Hawke told you,” she said. “The sooner we get back on the road the better. I’m getting tired of sitting up here in this castle.”

This time, Gwen really laughed, “I’ll keep that in mind when I decide who will come with me.”

“Good to hear,” Cassandra replied with a friendly slap on her shoulder.

Gwen didn’t stay much longer. She needed to get to Crestwood as quickly as possible. If the Wardens had truly disappeared, that had to be looked into. She didn’t even want to think of the repercussions if the Wardens vanished from Thedas.

 

* * *

 

 

Dorian lifted up a suspicious book supposedly about elven artifacts with a sigh. It was yet another book heavily edited by the Tevinter Imperium.

He tossed it aside. He was starting to get the feeling he’d have to ask Solas for more accurate elven sources. The sorting was busy work he hoped to put aside once Gwen got back on the road.

He turned and reached for another book when he saw Gwen walking up the stairs. For what felt like the first time in days, Dorian smiled.

“Miss me already?” he asked. “Or do you have more questions about my homeland?”

Gwen didn’t smile.

Dorian cocked his head to the side, wondering what was making her so grim. Gwen had been dealing with a lot since she’d woken up in Haven, it probably had nothing to do with him. He was about to open his mouth and try to say something witty, when she held up a piece of parchment to him.

“Dorian, there’s a letter you need to see,” she said.

“A letter?” Dorian teased. “Is it a naughty letter? A humorous proposal from some Antivan dowager?”

This didn’t have the desired effect of cheering Gwen up at all as she replied, “Not quite. It’s… it’s from your father. Mother Giselle gave it to me.”

Immediately, all pretense of good humor vanished as anger built up inside him. Of course that damn priestess would do something like this. She’d been giving him the evil eye since he’d arrived.

“From my father,” he said flatly. “I see. And what does Magister Halward want, pray tell?”

“A meeting,” was all Gwen said.

He snatched the letter from her.

“Let me see that.”

Dorian’s eyes flew across the letter, his lips pressing together as fear built up inside him until his eyes fell on a particular phrase.

“‘I know my son.’ What my father knows of me would barely fill a thimble.”

His hands tightened around the letter as he growled, “This is so _typical_. I’m willing to bet this “retainer” is a henchmen, hired to knock me on the head and drag me back to Tevinter.”

“You think your father would actually do that?” Gwen asked.

“No…” Dorian admitted. “Though I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Dorian hesitated, unsure how much he should tell Gwen.

 _Everything,_ he thought. _You should tell her everything. She’s the only one that can protect you from him._

However, when he opened his mouth, the words seemed to get stuck in his throat, the years of training in silence getting the better of him.

“Let’s go,” Dorian said. “Let’s meet this so-called _family retainer_. If it’s a trap, we escape and kill everyone. You’re good at that. If it’s not, I send the man back to my father with the message that he can stick his alarm in his “wit’s end.””

He knew that he was being melodramatic, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to let this retainer force him back home.

“There seems to be bad blood between you and your family,” she said finally.

“Interesting turn of phrase. But you’re correct. They don’t care for my choices, nor I for theirs.”

“Because you wouldn’t get married?” she asked. “Because you left?”

Again, Gwen didn’t show any sign of emotion. It was starting to enrage him. Why couldn’t she just for once show what she really felt? Normally, Dorian wasn’t bothered by the fact that Gwen play acted to the crowds, but now he found it downright annoying.

“That too,” Dorian said bitterly. “And like you, I don’t like sharing my personal history.”

“Alright,” Gwen said. She paused for a moment, clearly thinking something over before she spoke up.

“I think you should at least meet with this retainer, find out what your family wants.”

“I didn’t ask what you thought, did I?”

He knew immediately that he had hurt her. It was brief, he saw the pain in her expression as she took a small step back before she covered it up again. He felt terrible for lashing out at her. This wasn’t her fault, she was just trying to help.

“That… was unworthy,” he said. “I apologize.”

“It’s alright,” Gwen said with a slight sigh. “I shouldn’t have pried.”

“I suppose there’d be no harm in hearing what this man of my father’s has to say,” he amended,  hoping that it was really enough. “If I don’t like it, however, I want to leave.”

“That works for me,” Gwen replied, her voice a little steelier than usual.

“Good,” Dorian said.

Turning away from her, Dorian ran his hand through his hair.

“I can’t believe my father’s gall,” he growled. “Of course he couldn’t come here to Skyhold! No, that would be too much. But contacting some southern cleric on the sly? Much wiser.”

He walked over to the window and leaned against it. Now that their talk was over, his anger subsided, but that only allowed room for the fear to fill his chest.

“You’ll stay with me, right?” he asked as Gwen began to walk away.

“If you want,” she said turning back to him. “I’ll be there the whole time if you want.”

“I do,” Dorian said. “I don’t trust my father. He’s played this sort of trick before, and I’m not going back to Tevinter. Not so long as I have a say about it.”

“Fine by me,” Gwen said.

Dorian snuck a glance at her, trying to see if she had any reaction. But Gwen just stared out the window, her face revealing nothing.

“You seem to have little to say on the subject,” Dorian said, looking back out the window, hoping his face was just as expressionless as hers.

“What’s there to say?” Gwen said. “You don’t like your family. It’s not really a novelty.”

There was a brief flash of anger in Gwen’s face, a deep seated one at that. It was enough to let Dorian know that she wasn’t just purposely agreeing with him. She knew the flavour of what he was dealing with.

“The thing is… I don’t think my father’s really a terrible person,” Dorian said looking down at the floor. “Just terribly mislead.”

His memory traveled back to a happier time in his childhood. Before he realized that being what he who he was meant that he was his family’s shame. There’d been a time when he’d sit to study with his father, talking about the future for Tevinter. He’d gotten that again briefly with Alexius, but now that was gone too.

“If it helps,” Gwen said her voice softening a little. “That’s more than I can say about my father.”

It didn’t help, but Dorian appreciated the attempt. His mind wandered around for something that would take them off the subject of his family.

“Did I tell you,” he said softly. “I received a letter from Tevinter. It referenced Felix.”

“No,” Gwen said, looking at him curiously. “What did it say?”

“It told how he went to the senate of the Magisterium, told them of you,” he said. “A glowing testimonial, I’m informed.”

“I’m guessing that’s a good thing?”

“I don’t know,” Dorian admitted. “I don’t have any news on the reaction, but it has everyone talking. Felix always was a good as his word.”

Gwen gave a slight frown.

“‘Was’?”

“He’s dead,” Dorian explained. “The blight caught up with him.”

It was such a relief to finally share this with someone. He’d been holding on to it for days now, unsure of how to tell anyone. Now, it was off his chest.

“Are you alright?” Gwen asked, a sorrowful look in her eyes. Now that they were off the subject of family, she seemed to be opening up a bit more.

“He was ill,” Dorian shrugged, “and thus on borrowed time anyhow.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t mourn his death,” Gwen said.

“I know,” he replied, looking down at his feet. The memories of being with Felix poured back into his mind, making him smile just a little.

“Felix used to sneak me treats when I was working late in his father’s study,” Dorian continued. “ _Don’t get into trouble on my behalf,_ I’d tell him. _I like trouble,_ he’d say. Tevinter could use a few more mages like him. Those who put the good of others above themselves.”

“He should be an example for others to follow, or his death is wasted,” she said, leaning against the bookshelf.

“Should I spread the word?” he teased. “We could spawn the cult of Felix in a matter of days.”

Gwen gave a small laugh.

“There are worse things.”

Despite himself, Dorian laughed a little too.

“Probably true,” he agreed. “And you’re right. His actions should not be forgotten.”

He began to back away then. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy Gwen’s company, but at that moment he wanted to be alone. Left to grieve and sort out his tumultuous feeling of the prospect of confronting his families retainer.  

Before he went too far however, he stopped and turned back to face Gwen with a grateful smile.

“Thankfully Felix wasn’t the only decent sort kicking around Thedas.”

Gwen gave a half-smile and looked briefly down at the ground before she said, “flatterer.”

“You’re a woman worth flattering,” Dorian replied, and gave a slight bow before making his way out of the library.

Dorian knew exactly where he was going. He was going to the tavern to find whatever swill he could to drink away his problems. Probably not the best way to handle the situation, but he didn’t care.

He headed right over to the bartender and sat down.

“Brandy,” he said. “And just bring out the bottle.”

The dwarf just gave a small grunt before going back to grab a bottle of brandy. He slammed down the bottle and a glass. Dorian dropped the required coins on the counter before filling his glass and slamming it back.

The mage beside him gave him a disapproving gaze before taking his own drink and leaving. Dorian ignored it. At this point, he couldn’t give two fucks about what southerners thought about him.

“Keep drinking like that, and you’ll be on the floor before you finish the bottle.”

Turning around to see the Iron Bull standing to his left. He glared at him and poured himself another drink.

“Who’s to say that isn’t my intention,” Dorian said bitterly. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to drink in private.”

To his great annoyance, the Iron Bull did not take the hint and sat down beside him.

“Hey, I could use a beer over here,” he said to the bartender.

Dorian stood up, grabbing both his glass and bottle.

“Oh, come on,” the Iron Bull said. “There’s no need for you to be like that. I just thought that you’d like some company while you drank.”

“If I wanted company I would have brought someone along,” Dorian said, looking down at him.

“Like who? The Inquisitor seems a bit too busy to be drinking, now that she has information on the Wardens,” he said.

“How do you know that?” Dorian said incredulously.

“I heard one of the guards coming off duty mention it,” Bull said with a shrug.

“That’s right, you’re a spy,” Dorian said stiffly. “Another reason I shouldn’t be drinking with you.”

“Right,” Bull said. “I was sent here to watch the Inquisitor, not Tevinter. Though until recently, the only interesting thing about her was her love-life with the Commander to be honest.”

Dorian scowled, though the Iron Bull had a point. There was probably very little he had about him that would interest the qun. Though it still wounded his pride to be of such low importance.

“Fine,” Dorian said, plopping back down. “But I’m only doing this because I don’t have a better option. We’re not friends.”

“Fine by me,” Bull said, taking another long gulp of from his beer.

Dorian just gave a _humph,_ before returning to his brandy.

“So…” the Iron Bull said. “Still having problems with the locals?”

“Why do you care?” Dorian asked. “I thought you’d be pleased that the local southerners are spurning the Tervinter.”

“In case you forgot,” Iron bull said jovially. “I’m the savage qunari spy. I’m getting similar stares.”

Dorian scowled. He didn’t like to think that he had anything in common with this qunari, but he was right. They were both strangers in a strange land. Oddly, it gave him some slight comfort.

“Honestly, when I left, I didn’t think I’d be so homesick,” Dorian admitted. “But I am. I miss the warm weather, the food, and even the damnable city of Minrathous.”

“Why don’t you go back then?” the Iron Bull asked.

“Because I don’t have anything to go home too, and…”

He paused for a moment, wondering if he should admit what he was about to say next.

“And, I want to make sure the Inquisitor gets out of this alright,” he finally admitted. “She’s inspired a lot of people, but I think she feel’s alone most of the time.”

“She is alone,” the Iron Bull said blatantly. “With her being a mage, she can’t mess up. And from what I hear, she can’t rely on her family to help her out if southern Thedas turns on her.”

“Surely they wouldn’t let her sink that low,” Dorian said a bit incredulously. Even his father would at least make some attempt to save him. “From what I hear her family is now offering some support.”

“Because she’s made an impression,” the Iron Bull said. “Lord Trevelyan doesn’t like scandal. He let one of his cousins hang when it was discovered he was smuggling lyrium.”

“This is his daughter,” Dorian replied, still unable to believe his ears.

“If he really cared about her, why didn’t he fight harder to clear her name when she was a suspect in the Divine’s death?”

The Iron Bull had a point. Dorian knew from his own experience that his own father would have at least made a show of it for appearances sake.

“All the more reason to stay,” he said, his hand tightening on his glass. “She needs someone at her back.”

“I’m surprised you care so much,” Bull said, leaning back in his chair. “Does the Commander know that you care so much?”

“Why would that… oh nevermind. I don’t need you as well as the Commander thinking I’ve got a thing for her,” Dorian said grumpily. “If you must know, no, I’m not attracted to women. The Inquisitor included.”

“Figured, with the amount of time you spend flirting with the soldiers,” Bull said with a triumphant smile.

“I don’t flirt with the soldiers,” Dorian replied, glaring at Bull. The Iron Bull just snorted.

“Oh, alright, yes, perhaps I do,” he said. “But it never goes anywhere. They all think I’m about to use blood magic on them.”

Bull gave a small laugh, and then drank the last of his beer before slamming it down.

“Well, I’m off to the training grounds, but before I go, I think you should hear something.”

The Iron Bull gave him a steady look before continuing.

“You’re a good man Dorian. And I think if you took a moment to look around, you’d probably find that you have more friends than you think.”

He walked out of the tavern.

Dorian watched him go for a moment.

What in Thedas had possessed him to say that? Was he trying to drop Dorian’s guard? If so it had the exact opposite effect. He was now more suspicious than ever.

Gwen was sensible enough. If she thought the Iron Bull was trouble she’d take care of it.

He also had a very nice ass, Dorian noted as he walked away.

Mortified, Dorian filled up his glass and started drinking in earnest. There was no way in all of Thedas that he, Dorian Pavus, would _ever_ be attracted to the Iron Bull.


	13. Moving On

Over the next week, Gwen quickly found that what free time she had managed to accumulate for herself was stripped from her. As soon as Hawke left to locate Alistair, the Inquisition moved to take the next step in thwarting Corypheus’ plan. Suddenly, Gwen was missing the days when she just had headache inducing paperwork.

At first, it was just making preparations for leaving for Crestwood, making sure that they had supplies and sending Scout Harding ahead of her party. In the middle of that, though, Gwen found that her companions had problems that suddenly needed to be addressed.

Gwen didn’t really have a problem helping her companions. Most of the issues that were presented to her needed to be addressed, like Cassandra’s search for the Seekers, and Josephine’s couriers being mysteriously murdered. But there was barely any time to process what was going on around her.

She was relieved the night before she left for Crestwood, when there was no more to do and nothing left to prepare. It meant that she would be back on the road where everything made sense. Or at least, more sense than the idea that she was the Inquisitor.

How had her world even come to this?

She wasn’t used to this kind of attention, and it still threw her, months later.

Lying in bed, she waited for sleep to come. However, even though she had a new bed and there was a fire burning in her room, sleep proved elusive.

Sighing, Gwen got up and walked out onto the balcony that looked over the courtyard, wrapping the coat Cullen had given her around her.

She looked up at the sky. It was a clear night full of stars that seemed to go on forever. There was still a green light where the breach had once been. With that big of a scar in the sky, it would probably take some time to fade. Every time she looked at it, it reminded her of what was expected of her and what she faced.

Corypheus.

Why had the Maker chosen her for this? Was it simply pure accident or was it intended? Either way it didn’t give her comfort. She was just one mage, while Corypheus was a magister of old with Maker only knew what kind of powers he had. How could she ever hope to face him?

As she was thinking this, Gwen looked down and saw that the lights in Cullen’s office were still lit.

“Maker,” she muttered to herself. “He really doesn’t sleep.”

It suddenly came to her that perhaps she should go see how he was doing. She wasn’t going to sleep, and lately she’d been too busy to speak with him.

Going over to her wardrobe, Gwen pulled out a set of new clothes. They were much better than the old beige uniform she’d been wearing. The clothes were red and green trimmed in white. She smiled at the memory of Cullen’s face when he’d first seen her in them.

It had been amusing to see him blush when she caught him at it.

Grabbing her boots, Gwen made her way down the stairs. She was just going to make sure that Cullen hadn’t fallen asleep at his desk. That was all.

Walking through the rotunda, Gwen made her way to Cullen’s office over the bridge and knocked.

“Come in.”

Opening it, Gwen stepped into his office.

“Inquisitor!” Cullen said, abruptly standing up from his chair. His hair was slightly disheveled, like he’d run his hands through it several times, and his desk wasn’t it’s usual ordered self.

“I didn’t—I thought you’d gone to bed.”

“I had,” Gwen said, trying not to laugh. “But like you I’m having trouble sleeping. And since I saw that you still had candles burning… Well, we haven’t really talked since you told me about the lyrium.”

“I know, I… you’ve been busy, and I didn’t want to bother you,” he said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

“So what’s been keeping you up these late hours?” she asked, walking up to his desk. There was a bowl of stew on his desk, and when she reached out to touch it, she noted was stone cold.

“When did you last eat?” she asked, looking at the bowl.

“I… um… not sure,” he answered, rubbing the back of his neck a little harder.

“What’s the last meal you _remember_ eating?” she said, staring at him suspiciously.

“Um… I had something this morning,” he admitted, not meeting her eye.

Gwen frowned at him.

“I just forgot,” he said, finally looking at her as his hand dropped from his neck.

“Right,” she said, grabbing the bowl and heading for the door. “I’m going to sneak down to the kitchens and see if I can’t get you something”

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Cullen asked. “I hear that Sera’s been stealing from the kitchens, and the cooks are determined to catch her.”

“Don’t worry,” Gwen said, giving him a wink. “I’ve snuck down to the circle kitchens, and there I had to get past the templars.”

She walked out of his office and made her way to the kitchens.

Cullen wasn’t completely wrong; the cook was in the kitchens, asleep with a wooden spoon in her hand and snoring. Seeing that there was no one else in the room, Gwen began to carefully make her way through the kitchens, looking for food she could steal away with.

It was a little difficult, as it had been years since she’d actually done anything like this. However, it was also kind of fun as she remembered the childhood thrill she felt as she’d snuck through the kitchens to steal cake or sweets. The only real problem was that she had no idea where anything was. She was looking around for something better than rations, when Cole suddenly appeared beside her. She jumped.

“Here,” he said quietly, holding out a plate filled with some cold cuts, bread, and cheese. “This will help. I’ve put an apple there for you, too.”

“Flames, Cole,” she whispered. “You startled me.”

“Sorry,” he said. “I just want to help.”

At that moment, the cook snorted. Both Gwen and Cole froze, waiting. The cook muttered briefly, and then started to snore steadily again.

“Help me get out and all is forgiven,” she whispered to him.

Cole nodded and waved her over to a corner and another door. He opened it, and peaking outside Gwen saw that it led to the lower courtyard.

“So that’s where this door leads,” she said, stepping outside. She turned back to thank Cole, only to find that he was gone. Smiling, she gave a slight shake of her head and headed back to Cullen’s office.

When she arrived, Cullen was back to pouring over papers. He looked up when he heard the door open and gave her a small smile as she walked in.

“I’m guessing the cook wasn’t on duty like I thought,” he said.

“Oh, no, she was,” Gwen said putting the plate in front of him. “She was just asleep on the job. You might want to offer her a few tips about guard duty.”

“I think I’ll pass,” he said, taking the plate from her. “I hear she’s quite dangerous with that wooden spoon.”

“I guess I was lucky she didn’t wake,” Gwen said, taking the extra apple. She looked down at the papers as Cullen grabbed some of the bread and cheese.

“What’s this?” she asked, picking up a report. She wouldn’t have noted it, except that it mentioned the red templars.

“It’s a report from Leliana,” he said after swallowing. He grabbed for more food from the plate, eating it hungrily. Gwen waited a few more bites before continuing on.

“I can see that,” she said, looking at it more closely. “By the looks of it, it seems like we’ve discovered where the red templars came from.”

“We did,” Cullen said. “I just got the report today, which is why I didn’t mention it before.”

“What did you find out?” she asked, still looking over the report.

“They came from Therinfal Redoubt,” he said. “The knights were fed red lyrium until they turned into monsters. Those that didn’t were killed or escaped with Barris. Samson took over after their corruption was complete.”

Gwen frowned.

“Why didn’t Ser Barris just tell you this right away? Wouldn’t he want us to know what happened as soon as possible?”

“He told us where they were stationed, but he didn’t know the details,” Cullen said. “I wanted to have a full report before I told you.”

He trailed off, like he wasn’t sure what to say next.

“Alright, tell me this,” she said. “How do you know Samson?”

He hesitated again before answering.

“What makes you think I know him?”

Gwen gave him a skeptical look.

“I’ll grant you great eyesight Cullen, but even I wouldn’t have known that was Samson unless there was more than a casual acquaintance at that distance.”

“He was a templar in Kirkwall, until he was expelled from the Order. ” Cullen replied. “I knew he was an addict, but this…”

He shook his head, with a look of disgust.

“Red lyrium is nothing like the lyrium given by the Chantry; it does more than just take your memories or drive you mad. It changes you into a monster.”

“The red templars swarming Haven were proof enough,” Gwen agreed, remembering how inhuman the red templars had looked when they charged at her. It wasn’t just the horror of seeing men turned into monsters, but the knowledge that if they even touched her, she’d be infected too.

“We cannot allow them to gain strength,” Cullen said, his voice rising with determination. “The red  templars still require lyrium. If we find their source, we can weaken them _and_ their leader.”

Gwen said nothing for a moment, just watched him watching her back. Even though he didn’t say it outright, she knew that Cullen was taking the revelation of the templar’s corruption hard, almost personally. He often defended the templars at the war table, pointing out that many had come to the Inquisition. He might no longer be a templar, but he still had pride in the Order.

“Are you angier at Samson, or Corypheus?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Does it matter?” he asked. “Carevans of red lyrium are being smuggled along trade roads. Investigating them could lead to where it’s being mined. If you confront them be wary. Anything connected to Samson will be well guarded.”

Gwen grimaced. She hadn’t missed that Cullen hadn’t answered her question, but she’d have to trust that he wouldn’t let his anger get the better of his judgement. This was important to him; she’d at least try to help him.

“Alright,” she said. “I’ll look into it.”

“Thank you,” he said with a sigh of relief. “I know you have no reason to… to do this.”

“It’s important to you,” Gwen said with a shrug. “And if it weakens the red templars I see it as a bonus.”

“I agree” he said. “I just… if there’s a way to get rid of the templars, then there’s no better way to than to cut off their lyrium supply.”

“I might not trust the Order but the templars are still people,” Gwen said. “I don’t think they deserved to have lyrium growing out of their skin.”

“I know,” Cullen said quickly. “I didn’t mean to imply… it just seems like these days people rarely have something good to say about the Templars.”

“Cullen, I know you don’t hear this a lot these days,” Gwen said kindly. “But I do realize that templars serve a purpose. If a mage becomes possessed, templars are the best way to contain them.”

“I… I didn’t know you felt that way,” he said. There was a brief moment where she saw the vulnerability she’d seen both when he’d been sick and when he told her about the lyrium.

She reached out and placed her hand on his arm.

“Cullen?”

“Sorry,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “I’m just used to mages disliking templars on principle. It was actually refreshing when Viviane showed up.”

“I’ve never disliked you on principle,” Gwen said with a gentle smile.

“Oh, um…” Cullen said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck again. “Thank you.”

She smiles before biting into her apple.  

“We haven’t talked in awhile,” she said. “How are you doing?”

“As well as ever,” Cullen said after swallowing. “And you?”

“I’m… coping,” Gwen said, sitting on the edge of his desk. “I’m still trying to get used to all of this.”

“I can only imagine,” he said with a small smile. He turned away. Gwen cocked her head. Suddenly, he turned back to her.

“Gwen, what are we?” he asked. “Are we friends or…”

He didn’t finish the thought.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. Silence fell between them, and Gwen fidgeted.

“Look,” she finally said. “The truth is, I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’ve lived my whole life behind masks. Since I left Ostwick, I’ve had to figure out that I don’t always have to playact to the crowds. And to be honest, Skyhold is the first place I’ve felt safe in since I was six years old.”

She paused for a moment, looking away from Cullen as she continued on.

“After I left Ostwick I…” Gwen trailed off, caught up in memories of fire and steel.

“That templar, Gregory, he was more than just a friend, wasn’t he?” Cullen asked, not unkindly.

Gwen drew back from the memories. She fidgeted, contemplated lying to him, but no. The last thing this world needed was more lies.

“Yes,” she said, tracing her finger along desk pattern. “He was.”

“Did you love him?”

Again, Gwen didn’t answer right away, but tapped her fingers, trying to think of the best way to answer his question.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I know I regret his death, but I’m not sure if that’s survivors guilt or because I loved him. I’ve been pretending to care for things I don’t for so long that I sometimes can’t tell the difference.”

“I don’t think you pretend as much as you think you do,” Cullen said.

“Oh?” Gwen replied skeptically. “What makes you so sure about that?”

Cullen gave a shrug as he said, “Look at Haven. You were willing to give your life for the refugee’s there, and before that you were healing them. I don’t think you’d have done that if you were pretending.”

Gwen felt heat rise in her cheeks.

“I’m not sure I believe that, but I thank you all the same,” she said.

Cullen gave another shrug.

“Perhaps I don’t know you as well as some, but it’s what I believe.”

“Maybe we should change that,” Gwen said smiling. “Perhaps when I get back, we could do something that isn’t work related. Or is it possible to pry you away from your desk?”

A half-smile crossed Cullen’s face.

“It’s possible.”

“Anything you like to do besides drills and check on trebuchets?” Gwen asked.

He thought things over for a bit, like this wasn’t a question he was used to being asked. Finally, he answered.

“Well… I do like to play chess. Perhaps we could play, if you know how?”

“I do,” Gwen said with one of her warmest smiles. It made him give her that soft-eyed look that always made her heart pound. “We can play a game when I get back.”

“Alright,” Cullen replied and fell silent. Gwen was about to get up and leave when Cullen seemed to find his voice again.

“What about you? What do you like to do, on your own time?”

Gwen shrugged.

“I like to ride, and I garden some. I suppose riding is the thing I find most enjoyable since I have so few opportunities to relax.”

She smiled at him and hopped off the desk, following it with a mock-stern look.

“Speaking of, after you finish eating I want you to try and get some sleep. Inquisitor’s orders,” she said with a small wink.

Even in the dim candlelight, she saw the blush rise in his cheeks. Maker, that was adorable. Eventually, Cullen manage to finally find his tongue.

“I will try, Inquisitor.”

Nodding, she turned to leave when Cullen spoke again.

“Inquisitor,” he said, and Gwen glanced back.

He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck briefly, but then he steeled himself.

“Stay safe,” he said.

“You too,” she replied.

A warm feeling had begun to grow in her chest, one she hadn’t felt since Lydia died. It was like something long dead inside her had come back to life. Closing the door behind her, she paused to savor the feeling.

She hesitated, wondering if she should go back inside and tell Cullen what she really felt, but she didn’t.

Before she could second guess that entire exchange, Gwen made her way back to her room. She was too emotionally embroiled to make an uncompromised decision right now. She’d get away for a while, think things over, and then hopefully have an answer for both of them.

 

* * *

 

 

“Gwen, are you awake?”

“Gwen, please don’t make me come in to wake you up. I don’t want you to see me in the mornings and I’m sure you share the same opinions about yourself.”

Abruptly, Gwen woke to find the morning light peeking in through her the window in the keep they had taken a few days earlier. She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“Dorian?” she said blearily.

“Yes,” she heard beyond the door. “Please get up, my dear. It freezing rain and I’d like to head out to meet Hawke and her warden friend as soon as possible.”

“Alright,” Gwen called back. “Give me a minute to get dressed.”

She sat there for a moment rubbing her eyes. She’d had the dream about escaping the tower again, and even in the dim morning light Gwen couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling it had given her.

She’d been running through the dark hallways of her circle, trying to find her way through it, when she’d suddenly turned a corner to find templars waiting for her. In vain, she’d tried to explain that she didn’t a fight, just to escape the chaos.

They hadn’t listened. Instead they’d begun to attack her, beating her with their feet and hands. The gauntleted hand punching her across the head. She didn’t cry out. She hadn’t even cried out when it had actually happened. She’d learned a long time ago how to not cry out when she was hurt or in pain.

Suddenly, the beatings had stopped and Gwen looked up to see Gregory holding out his hand to her.

 _Come with me, my darling,_ he’d said.

 _No,_ she said in her dream. _Don’t risk yourself for me. I’m not worth it._

 _Of course you’re worth it, Dove,_ he said. _Now fly so we can be together._

Gwen scowled at that part of the dream. It was almost cringeworthy. Unfortunately, Gregory had actually said such things in his life, even if he hadn’t actually said that line when he’d saved her.

The dream had progressed as she’d remembered; Gregory had lead her to a secret passage out of the circle. Gwen was running down the long passageway when she heard a scream.

In the dream, she hadn’t looked back. She couldn’t look back. She didn’t want to see his dead corpse again.

She’d kept running until she reached the end of the tunnel. Lydia stood before her.

For a moment, Gwen was frozen in shock as she stared at her dead mentor. The sorrowful look in her eyes was hard to bear and she’d turned away.

 _Why have you forgotten me, child?_ she’d asked.

_I haven’t._

_You have forgotten me,_ she repeated. _You’ve pushed me down into the recesses of your mind so it won’t hurt. I’m a fading memory._

 _No!_ Gwen had replied. _You are the only mother I’ve ever known. I-_

It had been at that point Dorian’s knock had woken her.

Taking a deep breath, Gwen shook herself, trying to put the dream from her mind. It had happened a long time ago and there was nothing she could do to change it’s events.

She got up and grabbed her robes. She was half dressed already, preferring to have at least some warm garments in this cold weather. She quickly finished clothing herself and was about to leave when she stopped, and turned to her pack for her gloves.

She reached in to search for them when her hand closed around something small, round, and metal. Pulling it out, she opened her palm to reveal a golden ring with a small ruby. It had been Lydia’s before she’d died. She’d forgotten that she’d put it in there after she’d been instated as an Inquisition agent.

Lydia’s father had given her the band, a gift meant to be her dowry before she’d come into her magic. Lydia had promised that one day she’d pass it on to Gwen.

When she’d been killed, Gwen had barely had time to take the ring. She’d intended to keep it as a token of her memory, but later found she couldn’t wear it; it reminded her too much of what she’d lost.

She hesitated holding the ring out, debating whether or not to put it on when there was another knock at the door.

“Inquisitor?” Cassandra asked through the door.

“I’m coming!” Gwen called out, shoving the ring back in her pack. Grabbing her staff, she headed out.

 

* * *

 

 

It was late afternoon when Gwen finally exited the cave which Alistair had been hiding in. When she stepped out she gave Hawke a slightly disbelieving look.

“What?” Hawke asked.

“Has Alistair always been that… sarcastic?”

“As long as I've known him,” she said. “But that's not very long.”

“I'd just thought… given what he survived in the blight, he'd be more serious.”

“I think it's his coping mechanism,” Hawke said. “Laugh in the face of danger, and all that.”

“Sounds like my kind of guy,” Iron Bull said.

“I'm afraid he's married,” Hawke said with a smile. “And hopelessly in love with her.”

“I see,” Iron Bull said, eyeing Hawke up and down.

Hawke gave him a shake of her head, “Also spoken for, and he's not the sharing type.”

“To bad. You look like you know how to have fun,” Iron Bull replied.

“If you don't mind,” Dorian said irritably. “I'd like to get a move on.”

Gwen frowned at him. He’d been more and more irritable over the past few days. She suspected that it had to do with what awaited him in the Hinterlands. If they'd had the time, Gwen might have done it first, but given that Alistair was on the run, their trip to Crestwood wouldn’t have waited.

As they walked down the hill, Gwen caught up to him.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“I’m fine, Inquisitor,” Dorian said. “Let’s just take care of that rift.”

“We’ll head to the Hinterland-”

“Gwen,” Dorian said. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but the best thing for me right now is to focus on the task at hand.”

“Alright,” Gwen said. She gave Dorian’s shoulder a quick squeeze before walking ahead. As much as she wanted to help Dorian, there was little she could do for the time being except get him to the meeting as soon as possible.

She walked ahead, following the path that would take them to the lake with the rift. To her surprise, Hawke came up and walked beside her.

“I’ve been meaning to ask Inquisitor,” Hawke said as she walked along with them. “How have you been holding up?”

Gwen gave her a rueful smile.

“Surviving,” she said. “And you?”

“In the same boat I’m afraid,” Hawke replied. “It seems like no matter how much security I find in my life, I’m always just trying to get by.”

“That sounds tiring,” Gwen commented.

“It is,” Hawke admitted. “Though most of it is of my own doing.”

“How so?”

Hawke grimaced as she looked down at the ground.

“You don’t start a rebellion and then get left alone, Inquisitor,” she said. “I was proud when I’d been given the name Champion, but that was before I realized what came with it. Now, it’s a burden I must carry.”

“I hope you know many of us are grateful for what you’ve done,” Gwen said.

“I know,” Hawke replied. “But that doesn’t change the weight on your shoulders, does it, Inquisitor?”

Gwen didn’t answer. She knew exactly what Hawke was talking about, and it was the one thing she was afraid to admit to herself. As of right now, the fate of the world rested in her hands and it would rise or fall by her actions. Hawke saw the look on her face and gave her a sad smile.

“May I give you some advice, Inquisitor?”

“Of course,” Gwen said. “I could use all the help I can get.”

“Look to those closest to you to keep you grounded,” she said. “They’ll keep you from losing who you are, and question you when you go off track.”

Gwen gave a small grimace.

“I’m not used to putting my faith in others,” she said. “I’ve always looked out for myself.”

There was another pause from Hawke, and for a moment Gwen thought she saw regret in her expression.

“Trust me, Inquisitor, put your faith in your companions. Perhaps some more than others, but this is going to be a hard job and you’ll need them,” Hawke said. “That’s the best advice I can give you.”

Gwen gave her a small smile and nodded in thanks.

“I’ll try.”

Hawke nodded with approval. She then stopped walking, and pulled out a note.

“I think here’s where I get off,” she said, nodding towards one of the Inquisition camps. “Alistair and I will head for the Western Approach as soon as possible. If I could ask you to do one favor for me, give this to Varric when you get back to Skyhold. He’ll know where to send it.”

Gwen took the note and couldn’t help but notice the name on the piece of parchment.

“Fenris,” Gwen said, trying to remember where she’d heard the name before. “your lover? Isn’t he going to meet with you here?”

“No,” Hawke said. “I don’t want him involved in this. He’s safer in Kirkwall away from all this magic and demons.”

“Shouldn’t that be his choice?” Gwen asked, wondering at Hawke’s determination to keep Fenris away.

“He agreed to stay behind,” Hawke said. “I’ll return to him as soon as I can, but he doesn’t like magic in the first place, and… I can’t lose him. I’ve lost enough already.”

“I’m sorry,” Gwen whispered. “I know what that feels like.”

“It’s alright,” Hawke said with a shrug. “I still have my brother, my uncle, Fenris, and even a cousin. And those who I have lost I still remember.”

“I wish I could say the same.”

Hawke cocked her head to the side, giving her a curious look.

“Really? According to Varric you have a Commander waiting for you.”

“Maker take that dwarf,” Gwen muttered, and Hawke laughed.

“That’s Varric,” she said. “He could never resist sharing gossip if it was good for a story.”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t be having a few words with him,” Gwen said.

Gwen could have sworn she saw a twinkle in Hawke’s eyes before she said, “If you want my thoughts, I think he’s a good man. Perhaps a bit mislead at times, but he’s on the right path now. And even if nothing comes of it, it’s good to know someone cares, don’t you think?”

A small laugh came from Gwen as she shook her head.

“I suppose you’re right.”

Hawke gave a nod and started to turn up the hill to the camp when she stopped, and turned back to face Gwen.

“Loss is hard,” she said. “And you’re going to lose a lot more before this is over. But don’t be afraid to let new people in your life, nor forget those you lose. It’s the only way to keep from going insane.”

“I… think I understand,” Gwen replied, thinking about the ring still left in her pack at the stronghold.

“Good,” Hawke replied. “Then I’ll be on my way.”

With that, Hawke rushed off to the camp, leaving Gwen to head for the lake and the rift that awaited her there.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time that Gwen had returned from sealing the rift in the lake, it was late in the evening. There was little point in starting another task that day, so they’d headed back to the keep early. She felt a little sad that they wouldn’t be at one of the scout camps, as that meant that someone other than Bull was cooking.

For a giant qunari, he was a surprisingly good cook, even on the road. It seemed like magic the way he created savory food out of seemingly nothing. Not that the cook here was terrible, he just wasn’t as creative as Bull.

The one good thing was that the rain which hadn’t stopped since they arrived in Crestwood had ceased, and even the air felt warmer.

She headed straight for the room that had been provided for her at the keep, only pausing to pass some news along to Charter about her missing spy. As soon as she entered her temporary room, Gwen made for her pack and pulled out the ring.

Taking a deep breath, Gwen slipped it on. The Lydia in her dream had been right; she _had_ wanted to forget. To forget the pain of loss. However, the cost of forgetting was costing her the ability to move on.

She had lost Lydia and Gregory to the rebellion, but she couldn’t have saved Gregory, and Gwen had known that Lydia was growing old. In truth, if the attack in the circle tower hadn’t killed her, the war certainly would have.

As for Gregory... She’d liked him, but not loved him. And she could no longer afford to let the memory of him hold her back.

Gwen’s thoughts traveled back to Cullen, and once again she felt her heart flutter. It suddenly struck her how badly she wanted to see him again, to play that game of chess with him. If she could have, she’d jump on Swiftfoot and ride back to Skyhold immediately.

However, she’d promised Dorian that they would visit the Hinterlands first, and she would keep that promise. There was something else she could do in the meantime.

Heading over to a desk, she sat down and pulled out a piece of paper and parchment, and tried to think of something to write.

It was surprisingly harder than she’d thought it would be. Perhaps because she’d never really done anything like this before with a man she liked, and technically, there were formalities that should have been followed. However, Cullen seemed to hold little value for the customs of the nobility, and perhaps wouldn’t mind.

The only problem was what to write.

“Keep it simple,” she told herself. “You’re colleagues, so don’t get carried away.”

She thought over it for a moment, and then began to write. Ten minutes later, she looked at the letter she’d written.

_Commander Cullen,_

_Forgive me if this seems a bit bold of me, but I wanted to send you a letter to let you know that I’m alright. We have met with Hawke’s friend, Alistair. It turns out he was trained as a templar before becoming a warden. Did you know him?_

_Now that we’ve dealt with the undead we’ll be heading out as soon as we find out what Dorian’s family wants from him. I’m hoping that Mother Giselle is right and they just want to talk, but I am worried._

_I must admit I’m looking forward to that chess match we talked about. It will be a good break after what I’ve learned here, and I’ve missed talking to you._

_I hope this letter finds you well._

_Sincerely,_

_Gwen E. Trevelyan_

Yes, that seemed a safe enough letter. It wasn’t over the top and Cullen could look at it as a note from a friend. More importantly, it let Cullen know that she was still thinking of him.

It was only in that moment that Gwen realized she’d made up her mind about courting Cullen. No matter how long it lasted, she’d decided to give it a try.

She’d just have to not lose her nerve. As much as she’d like to give Cullen the benefit of the doubt, Gwen was certain that if anything was going to happen, she’d have to instigate it.

Sealing the letter, Gwen took it out and handed it to one of the messengers to send it to Skyhold. As soon as she handed it off, Gwen took a deep breath. It was done.

It was strange to put her faith in someone again. Gwen was surprised by how little it frightened her at that moment. Perhaps it was because she’d made up her mind, and she was no longer in a state of uncertainty.

What was most surprising of all, was how freeing it felt.  


	14. Halward Pavus

Dorian had been having trouble sleeping since he’d learned his father had sent a retainer. He’d always known it could happen, but he’d vainly hoped that once, just once, his father wouldn’t have felt the need to chase after him.

The one thing he was grateful for this time, was Gwen.

He actually felt bad about being so short with her. Normally, she didn’t ask too many questions, and when she did, it was out of concern for him.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Gwen, I’m fine. I’ll be even better if you stop pestering me,” he said.

Gwen tried to give a small smile, but it turned into more of a grimace. She gave a short nod and got up to let him be.

He’d hoped to be left alone, but the Iron Bull made his way over to him, a wineskin in hand.

“Want a drink?” he said, holding the skin out. Dorian wasn’t sure what the contents were, and wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

“No, thank you,” Dorian replied, shoving away the flask. “I’m not in the mood for goat piss.”

“Come on,” the Iron Bull said, giving him a rather wicked smile. “Family meetings are the best time for terrible drinks.”

“This isn’t a time for your barbarous jokes!” Dorian growled, his temper wearing thin. “I’m meeting a retainer and then leaving!”

He stood up and strode to his bedroll, his back to the group.

“He’s getting more aggravating with each passing day,” he heard Cassandra say.

“Just let him be,” Gwen had said. _“_ I’m sure he’ll be back to himself when this is over.”

Dorian grimaced at the comment, but didn’t feel like turning around to apologize. He pulled his blanket closer, and fell into a restless sleep.

When he woke the next day, he didn’t feel any better. In fact, he felt worse. All he could think about what that with each step, he was getting closer to meeting his father’s retainer.   

Suddenly, he stopped his horse. He couldn’t go through with this.

Gwen pulled her hart to a stop alongside his. Their eyes met and Dorian silently begged Gwen to have pity. She smiled, and turned to the other two.

“Could you two ride ahead?” she asked. “I need a moment with Dorian.”

Cassandra cast a curious look at Dorian and then the Bull, but they left Gwen alone with him.

“Dorian,” she said gently. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Dorian admitted. “I just have the feeling that I can’t take another step closer to that inn.”

“Do you want to take a break?” she asked. “Give you some time to get your bearings?”

“I don’t want to take a break, or get my bearings. I want to not go and speak with that retainer,” he said. “In fact, I’d rather just leave right now.”

“Dorian,” Gwen replied. “We’ve made it this far. You might as well see what your father wants to tell you.”

“And how would you feel if you knew your father was to possibly whisk you away? Would you go and see him?”

Again, Gwen didn’t answer right away.

“Lord Trevelyan isn’t a father. He’s a politician,” she finally said. “And if he tried to, _whisk me away_ , I wouldn’t let him.”

“And yet you’re encouraging me to meet with this retainer,” Dorian replied a bit accusatorily.

“I thought you wanted to hear what he had to say,” Gwen said. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to.”

Again, that twinge of guilt filled Dorian.

“I’m sorry.”

Gwen shrugged.

“Do you want to still see what the retainer has to say?” she asked.

Dorian paused for a moment. If Gwen was there, she would help him if the retainer tried to force him home. And if the retainer was really only passing on a message, he could make it clear that he wanted no contact with his family. It was a risk, but at least it could give him some peace of mind.  “No, let’s go. But stay with me? I’d feel safer, if you came,” he said.

“Of course I’ll come,” she said, with a smile.

Nodding, Dorian kicked his horse into motion and they headed for Redcliff. Dorian still felt nervous, but it was easier to proceed, knowing Gwen was beside him.

They left their mounts at the front of the village and walked the rest of the way. When they approached the tavern door, Dorian stood there, looking at it.

“Are you ready?” Gwen asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“No,” Dorian admitted. “Let’s get this over with.”

He pushed open the door.

The first thing Dorian noticed was that the usually full tavern, was empty. A sudden sense of dread filled him.

“Uh-oh,” he said. “Nobody’s here. This doesn’t bode well.”

“Dorian,” a familiar voice said.

Slowly, he turned around.

“Father,” he said flatly.

He should’ve expected this, but he still felt the bitter heat of embarrassed rage biting his throat. He glared.

“So the whole story about the family retainer was just… what? A smokescreen?” he bit out.

Halward looked displeased, but he walked forward.

“Then you were told,” he said. He turned to face Gwen. “I apologize for the deception, Inquisitor. I never intended for you to become involved.”

Dorian dropped all pretense of being calm.

“Of course not,” Dorian spat out. “Magister Pavus couldn’t come to Skyhold and be seen with the _dred_ Inquisitor! What would people think!”

He briefly looked back at Gwen and was glad to see that she looked just as furious as he felt.

His father had opened his mouth to speak, when Dorian turned around, but he spoke over the man before he could use his silver tongue.

“What is this father? Ambush? Kidnapping? _Warm family reunion_?”

He put as much venom as he could in his voice for the last part. He didn’t care what his father had come for, he just wanted him to know how much he despised him at that moment.

His father gave a heavy sigh.

“This is how it has always been,” he said tiredly to Gwen.

“You lured your son here under false pretenses,” Gwen replied. “Can you blame him for being angry?”

“Oh, he’s just doesn’t want you here,” he said. “He doesn’t want me to have a witness. For someone to hear the truth!”

“Dorian there’s no need to-” his father began, but Dorian wasn’t going to let him finish.

“I prefer the company of men. My father disapproves,” he said turning his back both to Gwen and to his father.

Gwen gave him a look as she said, “this is not exactly news, Dorian.”

“And why should it be?” he asked. “Why anyone should care, I have no idea.”

His father’s expression filled with disgust as he said, “this display is uncalled for.”

Dorian spun around to face his father, glaring at him.

“No, this _is_ called for. You called for it, by luring me here.”

“This is not what I wanted,” he said.

“I’m never what you wanted, father,” Dorian snapped. “Or had you forgotten?”

“That’s…” Gwen began, looking between him and his father. “A big concern in Teverinter, then?”

“Only if you’re trying to live up to an impossible standard,” Dorian replied. “Every Tevinter family is intermarrying to distill the perfect mage—perfect body, perfect mind. The perfect leader.”

He stopped for a brief moment to glare at his father before continuing.

“It means that every flaw—every aberration—is deviant and shameful. It must be _hidden_.”

He turned back to face his father, daring him to challenge him. He didn’t. Instead, his father seemed to shrink, as if the weight of his words seemed to wear him down.

 _Good,_ Dorian thought. _It’s about time someone told him what kind of a person he is._

He expected his father to say something, but to his surprise, Gwen was the one that spoke.

“Are you sure?” she whispered. “Your father might be here to reach out. He’s come all this way.”

Dorian had not expected this from her. Given what he summarized about her own personal history, he’d have thought she would have offered to leave.

“No,” he said, trying to hide the slight sense of betrayal he felt. “Let’s just go.”

Gwen only shrugged and was about to open the door when his father called out.

“Dorian, please! If you’ll only listen to me!”

Dorian stopped and turned back to glare at his father as he asked, “why? So you can spout more convenient lies?”

Again, his father said nothing, and Dorian took a step forward, letting out all the rage, all the pent-up anger he’d felt for years.

“He taught me to hate blood magic,” he raged. “” _The resort of the weak mind.”_ Those are _his_ words. But what was the first thing you did when your precious heir refused to play pretend for the rest of his life? You tried to… _change me_!”

His voice broke on the last. He’d looked up to this man, _loved_ him, and yet his father couldn’t stand who he was.

“I only wanted what was best for you,” his father said.

“You wanted what was best for _you!_ For your fucking _legacy_!” Dorian shouted. “Anything for that!”

He was seething, and he could feel tears threatening at the edge of his eyes. Turning away, he leaned on the nearby bar, all the wind suddenly gone from him.

Gwen walked up to his side, and to his surprise, she hugged him. Biting his lip he gently touched her arm in thanks.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said softly.

“Alright,” he said with some relief. “Just hold on a moment, I want to know one more thing.”

He walked back over to his father, looking him in directly in the eye.

“Tell me why you came.”

His father’s expression filled with sorrow as he said, “If I knew I would drive you to the Inquisition-”

Anger flared up in Dorian again and he cut off his father before he could say anything more, “You didn’t! I joined the Inquisition because it’s the right thing to do.”

He turned to leave. There was nothing more to be said. His father didn’t understand what he was trying to do, his father had never understood him. Why should now be any different?

To his relief, Gwen didn’t press the matter. Instead, she walked up beside him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He didn’t know what she was apologizing for, but he felt less annoyed with her.

“Once,” his father said, “I had a son who trusted me. A trust I betrayed.”

Dorian spun back to look at his father. For the first time he saw raw honesty in his expression.

His father pressed on.

“I only wanted to talk to him. To hear his voice again. To ask him to forgive me.”

He looked to Gwen, his mouth open. He almost wondered if this was a trick.

“Up to you,” she said. “I don’t think we should stay, but you know him better than I.”

Dorian hesitated for a moment and then waved her away.

“Just stay close,” he replied. She gave a nod and Dorian turned to face his father.

“What did you want to say?”

 

* * *

 

 

When Dorian had returned to Skyhold, he had made a point to leave the party as quickly as possible. He was still a little angry about being put into such a situation, even though it had helped things between him and his father.

He and Gwen had spoken very little on the road, and only when they had to.

She had said nothing, but left Dorian to his own devices. He’d been surprised as he’d half expected her to try and meddle, but she didn’t.

If she wasn’t going to make him talk about it then why had she pressed for him to try to mend things with his father?

As soon as he passed the reins of his horse off to a servant, he made for his quarters. He saw that Cullen had come out to see Gwen, but he didn’t make any remarks to either of them.

As soon as he reached his rooms, Dorian called for water, and removed his battle robes. As he heated the water, he thought about what had happened in Redcliff. As the water heated, he took a long soak in the first warm bath he’d had in weeks, his mind still occupied by what his father had done.

Despite everything, Halward had been genuinely sorry that his actions had pushed his son away. Dorian suspected that those regrets didn’t spread to what he’d tried to do to his son, but it was at least a step in the right direction. And he had to admit that without Gwen, that would never had happened.

He’d been too angry, the years of resentment spilling out, but he couldn’t say that he didn’t regret that meeting. Why had she insisted on it?

Unable to come up with any answers, Dorian finished bathing himself, spent an some time cleaning up his mustache, and hair, before finally dressing and heading over to the library.

More books had arrived since he had left, and Dorian began the meditative process of sorting through them. He set aside the books that pertained to elven magic, in the hopes that they might yield some information on Gwen’s mark. The rest he began to find homes on the shelves.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Gwen finally came to see him. He heard her footsteps up the stairs, and stop. He turned around, waiting for her to speak.

“Are you still angry with me?” she asked.

He didn’t answer right away, but just looked at her, wondering about the woman that stood before him. Once again, her expression showed no emotion, as if she was holding herself away to protect herself from what he told her. He recognized that look from caught reflections at his father’s parties.

In that moment, he realized that whatever anger he’d felt towards her had pushed Gwen away, making her more reserved around him. She was afraid that he was going to shut her out.

Finally he looked down at the books he’d been sorting through as he said, “No, but I’d like to know why you were so adamant about my going to the meeting?”

She didn’t answer right away, but looked away. He watched as she brushed her hair out of her face, a nervous habit he’d come to realize.

“He was reaching out,” Gwen replied. “My father didn’t even try to save me from the Chantry. He didn’t even care where I was until we came to Skyhold. I guess I figured your father must have cared a little. He’s still fucked up, but I can’t say that some part of him doesn’t still love you.”

“I’m not sure it’s enough,” Dorian replied. “Can love overcome a hate ingrained in your culture?”

“I can’t say,” Gwen replied. “It wasn’t enough to overcome my family’s hatred for mages.”

Dorian walked over to the window, and looked at the mountains, losing himself in the sharp unending horizon.. He could feel Gwen behind him, waiting for him to speak.

“He says we’re alike,” he finally said. “Too much pride. Once, I would have been overjoyed to hear him say that. Now, I’m not sure I want to be. I don’t know if I can forgive him.”

“You don’t have to. You said he tried to change you.” Gwen replied.

“Out of desperation,”  he replied, briefly looking back at her. “I wouldn’t put on a show, marry the girl, keep everything unsavory locked away. Selfish, I suppose. Not to want to spend my entire life screaming on the inside.”

Gwen didn’t say anything at first, but folded her arms across her waist. He saw the compassion in her eyes. After a moment, she replied, “That sounds like reason, not selfishness.”

“He was going to do a ritual,” Dorian said after a moment. “Alter my mind. Make me… _acceptable._ I found out. I left.”

A brief look of horror crossed Gwen’s expression as she said, “Can blood magic do that?”

“Maybe,” Dorian said, looking away from her. “It could also have left me a drooling vegetable. It crushed me to think he found that absurd risk preferable. Part of me has always hoped he wouldn’t really have gone through with it. If he had… I can’t even imagine the person I’d be right now.”

He paused to look at her.

“I don’t think I’d like that Dorian,” he said.

She reached out and touched him on the arm briefly.

“Are you alright?”

“No,” Dorian admitted. “Not really.”

He straightened up and turned to face her.

“Thank you for bringing me out there,” he said, trying to smile. “It wasn’t what I expected, but… it’s something. Maker only knows what you must think of me now, after that.”

“I think you’re very brave,” Gwen said without hesitation. Dorian blinked.

“Brave?” he asked.

“It’s not easy to break from tradition and walk your own path,” she explained. “Or even face those who’d stop you. And… if you can work things out with your father, I wish you the best. Just know you’ll always have a home here.”

Despite himself, Dorian smiled. Even if he didn’t believe it, it was still good to hear.

“I don’t know about working things out, but perhaps I’ve given him something to think on. At any rate,” he finally said. “It’s high time I drink myself into a stupor. It’s been that sort of day.”

Gwen smiled back, glancing down.

“Sounds like a good idea.”

He nodded and started to walk by her when he stopped.

“Gwen,” he said. “It’s not my business, so I understand if you don’t take me up on it. But if you ever need to talk about your family… Well, I’m here.”

She didn’t answer immediately, stiffening up, before forcing herself to relax.

“Thank you, Dorian,” she said. “But I’m afraid there isn’t much to tell. My father’s a terrible man, and that’s all there is to it.”

“Fair enough,” Dorian said. “But if you want to join me for a drink, it’s better than drinking by one’s self.”

This time, Gwen laughed.

“I think I could drink to that.”

“Allow me escort you to the tavern, then,” Dorian replied, holding out his arm to her. Smiling, Gwen took it and they both walked to the Herald’s Rest.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning when Dorian woke, he gave a groan at the pounding headache he was suffering from. Clearly, what had meant to be a few drinks with a friend had turned into much more. Luckily, he had something for occasions like this.

Reaching under his bed, Dorian pulled out a small box, opened and selected a purple filled, glass vial., He popped the cork with his thumb, and downed  the contents. He closed his eyes, and waited for the potion to kick in before getting up to prepare for the day.

By the time he entered the Great Hall, he was at least feeling human enough to grab some food before heading up to the library. He still felt awkward eating in the Great Hall without Gwen, and prefered to munch on something while engrossed in  work.

Today, he focused on the elven books that he’d collected, wanting to start exploring the origins of Gwen’s mark. He had a feeling that if he could identify what the orb was, he could look into how the mark could be removed or—and Dorian hoped that it wouldn’t come to this—control it.

The problem with controlling it was that most ancient magic was… well ancient. Most of the stories Dorian had heard about magisters trying to control such power often ended in tragedy. It took a powerful individual to contain such magic, and while Gwen was powerful, Dorian wasn’t sure she was powerful enough control the mark if it got out of hand.

As he was studying a passage, apple in hand, Dorian heard a soft “ahem” behind him. Turning, he saw Mother Giselle standing at him with a rather unfriendly look on her face.   

“I see that you are still here,” she said cooly.

“Yes,” Dorian said. “Rather fascinating, isn’t it, that I wouldn’t want to go home.”

“I heard that you and the Inquisitor were seen together last night, being rather… _familiar_ with each other,” Mother Giselle repeated.

How was it that people still thought their might be a thing between him and Gwen? Cullen he could understand with his lack of self-confidence and terrible flirting skills. But everyone was gossiping now about the Inquisitor and the Commander. Why did the Mother still think he was actually interested in Gwen.

Unless she just didn’t want him associating with Gwen at all.

“The Inquisitor and I were having a welcome drink after being on the road for weeks,” Dorian said, not bothering to hide his disdain for Mother Giselle. “I think the Iron Bull might have joined us and talked us into a few more drinks, before I returned drunkenly to my rooms, _alone_. Is there anything else you would like to know?”

Mother Giselle did not look pleased at all, and glared at him.

“Just what exactly are you doing here?”

“Getting clucked at by an old hen apparently,” Dorian said. Mother Giselle seemed to be preparing some truly snide remark when Gwen suddenly walked up beside him.

“Oh… I…” Mother Giselle began, but suddenly seemed lost for words.

“What’s going on?” Gwen asked innocently, though Dorian had a sneaking suspicion that she knew exactly what was going on, judging by the narrowing of her eyes.

“It seems the revered mother is concerned about my “undue influence” over you,” Dorian replied. Gwen cocked her eyebrow skeptically. Before he could explain more, Mother Giselle broke in.

“It _is_ just concern,” she said, glaring at him for a moment before turning to face Gwen.

“Your worship, you must know how this looks.”

Dorian just gave her a look of distain as he said, “you might need to spell it out, my dear.”

Mother Giselle didn’t even bother hiding her own dislike this time as she pointed at Dorian and said, “this man is of Tevinter. His presence at your side, the rumors alone-”

She stopped at the dark look Gwen gave her.

“What’s wrong with him being from Tevinter?”

Despite the nasty look Gwen was giving her, the revered mother did not back down.

“I’m fully aware that not everyone from the Imperium is the same,” she stated.

“How kind of you to notice,” Dorian said sarcastically. “Yet you still bow to the opinion of the masses?”

Mother Giselle raised her head as she said, “the opinion of the masses is based on centuries of evidence. What would you have me tell them?”

“The truth?” Dorian replied, wondering if she was really that stupid or just purposefully being ignorant.

“The truth is I do not know you, and neither do they,” she said, sounding completely affronted. “Thus these rumors will continue.”

“There’s no cause for concern, your reverence,” Gwen said, using a more diplomatic tone. Dorian could already tell that this wasn’t going to work by the disapproving look Mother Giselle gave her.

“With all due respect,” she said, looking down at Gwen as if she was an apprentice. “You underestimate the effect this man on the people’s good opinion.”

To his slight surprise and respect, Gwen straightened herself so she stood just above the aging revered mother as she said, “First of all, I don’t like that you are insinuating that there is more than camaraderie between us. And second, do the people know how he’s helped the Inquisition?”

“I… see,” Mother Giselle said, for the first time truly sounding uncertain. “I meant no disrespect, Inquisitor. Only to ask after this man’s intentions.”

She hesitated for a moment.

“If you truly feel this man is without alternative motive, then I humbly beg forgiveness of you both.”

Gwen gave no response, and after a moment, Mother Giselle gave a slight bow to both of them before she headed out of the library.

“Well that’s something,” Dorian said.

“She didn’t get to you did she?” Gwen asked earnestly, turning to face him.

“No,” Dorian replied. “It takes more to get to me than thinly veiled accusations.”

There was a brief moment of worry in Gwen’s expression as she asked, “you don’t think she’ll do anything?”

“Do what?” Dorian asked. “Yours is the good opinion I care about, not hers.”

He wondered why Gwen was so concerned when a thought occurred to him; perhaps she was worried about the rumors herself. He’d known her long enough to know that Gwen didn’t take them lightly.

“I should ask,” he said turning to face her. “Do the rumors bother you.”

To his great relief, Gwen shook her head as she said, “I wish they wouldn’t disparage you. They don’t know you.”

Dorian gave a sigh.

“They know you less than they know me,” he replied. “We might both be nobles, but you are a prophet to the people and believe the stories more than they believe the truth.”

Gwen scowled.

“At this point, I’m just letting them believe what they want to believe,” she said. “The important thing to me is that you and the rest of my inner circle know who I am.”

“I suppose I can understand that,” Dorian replied. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should say what was on his mind, partly because he wasn’t sure it needed to be said.

However, the world had enough uncertainty in it already, and he wanted Gwen to at least know his mind on their relationship.

“Perhaps it is odd to say,” he said, with a slightly apprehensive look. “But I think of you as a friend, Inquisitor. I have precious few friends. I didn’t think to find one here.”

“I…” Gwen said, clearly shocked and uncertain what to say.

“Don’t speak,” Dorian said quickly. “I detest confessions, and I’d like to get this… over with. Just allow me to say I’ll stand beside you. Against Corypheus, my countrymen, or spurious rumor so long as you’ll have me.”

To his surprise, Gwen suddenly threw her arms around him, her arms wrapped tightly hugging him. At first, he was rigid, unsure how to react. However, as he looked down and saw the happy smile on her face, he hugged her back.

“There, there,” he said. “If you keep this up, people _are_ going to assume we’re courting.”

Gwen let go of him, giving a bit of a laugh.

“You haven’t heard that there’s supposed love triangle between you, the Commander, and myself.”

An impish smile crossed his face as he said, “and I bet that’s just driving our handsome Commander mad.”

Gwen gave a half-smile and looked down at the ground briefly before she answered.

“Maybe,” she said. “But honestly, I need friends, and I’m glad I’ve found one in you.”

“Me too,” Dorian replied, giving her a smile.

The two of them stood silently together, neither of them sure what to say.

“Inquisitor.”

Both Gwen and Dorian to see Solas standing by the stairs. He looked worried. Gwen gave Dorian a brief smile before turning to face Solas.

“Yes, Solas?” she said walking towards him.

“I was hoping to borrow a moment of your time,” Solas said.

The two of them walked down the stairs, as Dorian watched them go. He smiled. He’d come to the Inquisition to set the world right, and instead, he’d found a friend.

 


	15. The Game of Love

Dorian groaned as the morning light poured into his room. He’d been waking up with headaches the past few days and had yet to find a cure for it. More likely, it was due to the affair with his father. He still was angry about that, as much as he tried to let it go. The problem was, his father could apologize all he wanted, but he couldn’t change what the prejudices of Tevinter had cost his son.

As he lay in bed, waiting for the worst of the headache to pass, his thoughts traveled back to the month before he’d left for the south. It had been just after he’d abandoned Alexius to his grief. He’d been facing homelessness when Rilienus had offered him shelter.

At first, Rilienus’ invitation had seemed to be given out of friendship, but later they’d become closer than he’d thought they’d ever come. Dorian had given up all hope of ever being happy with someone, but with Rilienus he’d begun to think it was possible. Then Rilienus’ father had discovered them.

Despite Dorian’s best attempts to reach out, he was turned away, having gotten no closer than the gates. It was weeks before he’d heard anything about Rilienus. On the same evening that he’d found the ritual that was supposed to change him, his father had come to tell him the awful news. Dorian had slipped the paper back onto his father’s desk. The emptiness Dorian felt in his chest was almost unbearable.

Rilienus was unresponsive.

Dorian didn’t even remember the journey to the estate. All he remembered was walking into the room and seeing Rilienus lying there, still breathing but not aware of him. Dorian had picked up a pillow.

Rilienus wouldn’t have wanted to live that way.

That night he’d left Minrathous for good. There had been nothing there to keep him there. At first it had been a way to help mitigate the damage his mentor was doing, but later, he’d found the purpose through the Inquisition, a chance to make amends for his own people.

It was foolish to think that he could wipe out all the sins of Tevinter, but he felt like he was making a difference. Even if he had forgiven his father, he wouldn’t have wanted to leave the Inquisition. This was too important. However, the Inquisition was not expected to last forever. It was a temporary solution to bring order to the world. What would he do after all of this is over?

Thankfully, he didn’t have to make that choice now. Gwen had made it clear that Skyhold was home as long as he wanted.

Gwen. While Dorian had a feeling that of everyone in the Inquisition she let him the closest, she was still a bit of a mystery to him. She was no doubt a strong and confident woman, but there was a vulnerability there that she kept close.

It was probably at the root of Gwen’s reluctance to act upon anything that had to do with emotions. Having friends and loved ones made it easier to deal with troubling things. And Dorian had no doubt that things would get worse for her, before they got better.

She had been there for him, and he could do no less for her.

Dorian got up and began to dress. There was no point in lying in bed, thinking; it would only make him more depressed.

He got himself presentable and headed out to the Great Hall, but when he entered it, he found that he couldn’t stay there. Even though Gwen had not spoken a word about what had happened, the previous day's events seemed to remind him just how much of a stranger he was in this place.

Turning around, he started to head for the library when he found himself face to face with Cullen.

“Sorry about that,” Dorian said, stepping to the side.

Cullen shook his head and said, “It’s fine. It’s not like you can really move around here anyways. Have you seen G– the Inquisitor?”

“Sorry, no, I haven’t,” he said. “Why?”

Cullen reached up and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“I… no reason. I just… It’s been a while and I thought I should. Well…” he trailed off lamely. It was hard not to laugh in the face of Cullen’s embarrassment.

“I have a feeling that she’s probably having a lie in, given that she doesn’t really get much of a chance on the road,” Dorian answered.

Cullen grimaced, clearly disappointed. Dorian decided he might as well distract Cullen and get himself out of his own head.

“Perhaps we could do something while we wait for her,” he offered. “Perhaps we could go down to the tavern–”

“We could play a game of chess. Lady Josephine has a set, and it’s been awhile since I’ve played,” Cullen interrupted.

There was such a hopeful look in his eyes, that Dorian found it impossible to say no. Maker, no wonder Gwen had fallen for him so bad. He’d do just about anything to get that hopeful look from him. Sadly, this was perhaps the closest Dorian would ever come to having that look for himself.

“Did you learn during your templar training?”

“No, my father taught me.”

“Really? Just what does your father do for a living, Commander?” Dorian asked, his curiosity peaked.

“He… was a merchant. Not rich, but well enough off to give his children an education,” Cullen replied.

"Oh, has he moved on to greener pastures? Landowning, perhaps?"

“He’s dead. Died during the Blight.”

“I’m sorry,” Dorian said, and he meant it. “Did he…”

“I don’t know,” Cullen said quickly before Dorian could really ask his question. “I was in Kirkwall by the time I found out and… I never asked my sister about the details when she told me.”

There was a tone in Cullen’s voice that told Dorian not to pry, and Dorian wasn’t really in the mood to press.  

“Commander, in honor of you father, I would be delighted to play a game of chess with you.”

An almost boyish grin crossed Cullen’s face, and he headed straight for Josephine’s office.

“I’ll go get the board, then.”

 _Maker, it’s almost a shame Gwen missed this. I’ve never seen him look so excited,_ Dorian thought as he waited for Cullen to return.

He didn’t take that long. Dorian almost wondered if he’d even asked Josephine, but decided not to ask. Cullen was in one of his rare good moods, and honestly, he didn’t want to spoil it. He followed after Cullen, feeling like an owner looking after an excited new puppy.

They ended up in the garden, which Dorian didn’t mind; it was one of the more peaceful areas in all of Skyhold.

“Tell me, Commander,” Dorian said as he moved his first pawn. “If you love this game so much, why don’t you have a board of your own?”

Cullen gave a shrug as he moved his own pawn and said, “Templars weren’t allowed to keep possessions.”

“Alright, but you haven’t been part the Order for months now.”

Cullen just gave a shrug.

“I just haven’t found the time,” Cullen said, his attention focused on the board.

“Seriously? Surely you’ve found your way to Val Royeaux once or twice,” Dorian replied.

Cullen scowled.

“Only when I have to,” Cullen replied. “I don’t really like to spend a lot of time there.”

“Not worth spending a few more painful moments to find a set?” Dorian pressed.

“No,” Cullen said. “Everyone’s so… fake there.”

“It’s part of the game,” Dorian said. “Be anyone except yourself. It’s a skill you’ll need if you’re going to interact with nobles.

Again, Cullen scowled at him again, but instead of responding he looked back down at the board.  

They played for a while, moving across the board. Even though Dorian was playing white, Cullen was holding up on his own, with only one pawn lost to Dorian’s three. He’d have to pay more close attention if he didn’t want to be wiped out in only a few moves.

He then decided to try and distract Cullen with a subject he knew would draw his attention away from the board.

“So… how are things going between you and Gwen?” Dorian asked, feigning innocence.

Cullen only paused for a moment before answering, “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” Dorian continued. “I was just wondering if you were considering telling her how you feel about her yet?”

He paused for a moment, looking at the board before continuing.

“It’s… complicated. And… well, perhaps it’s better if I don’t,” he said.

Picking up his queen, Dorian moved it to the side of the board before saying, “Cullen, have you ever done something alone with Gwen? Something that doesn’t involve paperwork? I think you’d find it a lot less terrifying to talk to her if you did something outside of your duties.”

“We talk sometimes,” Cullen said with a shrug, taking one of Dorian’s knights. “We… she suggested that we should do something that isn’t related to the Inquisition, but we both have to find the time. It was partly why I was looking for her.”

 _Good on her,_ Dorian thought. At least Gwen was doing something, if not more to try and get things going.

“She wrote to me while she was in Crestwood,” Cullen said with a shrug.

“Really?” Dorian replied, his curiosity aroused again.

 _She failed to mention that to anyone,_ he thought. Clearly, he hadn’t been quizzing Gwen enough. Though, given what he’d been through, perhaps that wasn’t surprising, if a bit disappointing. He’d have loved to tease her about it.

“And what did she say?”

“Not much really, just what was going on at the time,” Cullen replied. “I was actually surprised to receive her letter.”

“Cullen, for Andraste’s sake, _say something to her,_ ” Dorian said leaning forward. “She clearly is dropping hints, and if this keeps up too much longer the opportunity will be missed.”

Cullen only scowled at him.

“It’s not as easy as you make it out to be,” Cullen replied, moving another chess piece. “Every time I try to say something, I get tongue tied. And… what about you and her?”

“What _about_ me and her?”

“You two seem to be close,” Cullen replied suspiciously.

Dorian sighed and looked up at the sky. All this time and Cullen still hadn’t picked up his own interest.

“Commander,” he said, finally looking back at him. “I’m much more interested in time alone with you, than I’d ever be interested in time alone with her.”

It was amusing to watch as Cullen processed what he was saying. At first his brow just furrowed in confusion, then understanding dawned, and then a dash of concern crossed his face.

“Dorian, I…”

“I know, I know,” Dorian said, waving his hand as he leaned forward to move another piece. “You dashed my hopes the moment I saw the way you look at her. I mean, was there ever a moment you weren’t in love with her?”

Cullen blushed a little as he turned his attention back to the board.

“I don’t know,” Cullen admitted. “Ever since I saw her, I thought she was beautiful. But I think it was at least a month before I… Well. You know.”

Dorian rolled his eyes.

“Oh yes, that’s very descriptive, Cullen. You mean it’s difficult to admit it was a month before you thought you might’ve actually had feelings for a beautiful woman. Even more difficult to tell her that you have those feelings.”

“I told you,” Cullen said. “I’m not good at that sort of thing, and… what if I screw it up again?”

“Cullen,” Dorian replied, intently. “Stop wasting time trying to work out the if’s. You have no idea what she’s going to say, and so long as you don’t belittle her affection for you-”

“I didn’t mean to belittle her feelings,” Cullen replied defensively. “I just… didn’t want her to feel obligated to act on something that she did in the heat of battle.”

“And how did that work out?” he asked dryly.

Cullen flushed and looked down at the board. Sighing, Dorian decided to throw him a bone.

“Look,” he said. “You’ve done well by giving her that coat; she’s clearly taken with the thing. And it’s good you’re talking, but it’s time you _do_ something.”

“I know,” Cullen said quietly. “She’s just… untouchable sometimes.”

“Cullen, listen to me,” Dorian said holding up his hand as he counted. “She’s kissed you, she accepted a gift from you, she’s taking the time to talk to you, and she wrote you a letter. If that isn’t clear as day that she has gentler feelings for you at least a little, I don’t know how much plainer she can be.”

Cullen blushed, looked down at board again, and made a move.

“I guess when you put it like that, it makes sense,” he said after a while.

Dorian leaned back in triumph and gave a shrug, “What can I say? When it comes to the game of love, I do know what I'm talking about.”

“But not when it comes to chess,” Cullen said, pointing to the board.

Dorian startled and stared at the chess board in complete disbelief. He considered himself to be an excellent master of the game of chess, and yet he was staring at what was readily becoming his defeat at Cullen’s hands. He clearly had not given the man enough credit for his intelligence.

When he looked up, Cullen was giving him that smug little smile of his, “Admit it, I have this one.”

“Are you _sassing_ me, Commander? I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Not to Dorian’s surprise, Cullen rolled his eyes as he muttered, “Why do I even…”

It was at that moment that Gwen walked up to watch their game. The moment Cullen saw her he dropped the rook he’d been holding and stood up.

“Inquisitor!”

The sight was quite amusing. Cullen, struck speechless by Gwen’s presence, while she struggled not smile. To her credit though, she managed it quite well. Cullen stood there, looking at a bit of a loss as to what to do, when Dorian finally took pity on the man.

“Leaving are we? Does this mean I win?”

Just as Dorian suspected, Cullen scowled and returned to his seat. Which was partly a shame as it would have spared Dorian the need to admit that Cullen was better than him at chess. The man wasn’t even cheating.

Gwen just smiled, crossing her arms as she said, “Are you two playing nice?”

“I’m always nice,” Dorian replied with a wicked grin of his own. He turned his attention back to the chess board, and moved another of his chess pieces across the board, threatening Cullen’s other rook. As he set it down he gave Cullen a smug smile.

“You need to come to terms with my inevitable victory. You’ll feel much better.”

Cullen didn’t even hesitate to move his next piece as he said, “Really? Because I just won, and I feel fine.”

Dorian couldn’t believe it. He’d thought he’d had a few more moves to try and win back the game, but he hadn’t even had an inkling that the trap was coming. He scowled.

“Don’t get smug. There’ll be no living with you.”

He looked over at Gwen, and could tell she was hoping to be alone with Cullen. He got up to leave, only pausing as he approached Gwen.

“Lady Trevelyan,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it. A bemused smile crossed Gwen’s face.

“Lord Pavus, good to see your sense humor has returned.”

“I aim to please, my lady,” Dorian replied with a bow of his own.

He started to walk away when he heard what Cullen speak.

“I should return my duties as well.”

Spinning around, Dorian began to frantically gesture towards Gwen and the chess board desperately. Just how stupid could the man be, passing up a golden opportunity like this? Thankfully, Cullen picked up on what Dorian was trying to say.

“Unless,” he said quickly, gesturing towards the board. “You would care for a game? You did say we should play a game when you got back.”

“Prepare the board, Commander,” Gwen said, sliding into the seat across from Cullen. “You did promise me a game after all.”

Dorian gave a sigh of relief. Thank the Maker that Gwen would take advantage of a situation, otherwise, this relationship might go nowhere. Dorian began to head back for the library, when the little imp in him suddenly came to life.

He quickly found an unoccupied bench that still gave him a view of the two of him, and pulled out the book he was currently reading. It was Swords and Shields, the pathetic excuse for romance series Cassandra had gotten him hooked on.

He was about to settle in further, when Gwen looked up and saw him. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him as Cullen finished setting up the board. Dorian gave her a warm smile and then pretended read the book, listening as Gwen and Cullen began to talk.

“As a child I played this with my sister. She would get this stuck up grin whenever she won, which was all the time.”

 _Andraste help him, is he really talking about his family?_ Dorian thought wearily. He really needed to give Cullen some tips on trying to woo someone.

To Dorian’s surprise, though, Gwen actually seemed interested. She not only was engaging in the conversation, but she she seemed to be enjoying hearing about Cullen’s siblings. Perhaps it was because she’d had such rotten luck with her own, Gwen actually liked hearing about a family that wasn’t broken.

“Good book?”

Dorian jumped, and turned to see Iron Bull standing beside him.

“Maker’s breath. Don’t sneak up on me like that,” he said, pressing his hand on his heart. The qunari just laughed, leaning against the wall as he looked over at Gwen and Cullen.

“I didn’t think I was sneaking, but then, I suppose with those two around it’s hard to notice anything else.”

Dorian scowled at Bull, and tried very hard not to think about how muscular the qunari was. Why couldn’t the beast wear a shirt?

“I wasn’t– I was– I’m just enjoying a book.”

Maker, he sounded like Cullen. He turned back to the pages of the book and tried to pretend that he was actually fascinated with the story. But Bull gave him a skeptical look, showing that he clearly didn’t believe him.

“Oh, yeah? What’s it about?”

“It’s–Alright, it’s dreadful, if you must know.”

Iron Bull chuckled and looked back at Gwen as he said, “Good thing the Boss doesn’t know that, or I think she’d kick your ass.”

“Well, if she didn’t play hard to get, I’d not have to stay and spy,” Dorian replied.

“Right, cause it’s so easy to admit you have feelings for your enemy,” Bull replied. Dorian frowned up at him.

“Cullen’s not part of the Order anymore,” Dorian replied. “I don’t know why everyone keeps bringing that up.”

“You can’t understand why it might be difficult to admit to anyone, even if they’re no longer part of a group, that you’re crossing the line?”

“If you’re talking about us working together, then I’ll point out this is southern Thedas, and Gwen is the one in charge,” Dorian replied. “She’s decided to let you join, and there’s nothing I can do about that.”

“You could stay behind at Skyhold when she brings me along,” Bull pointed out.

“And leave my friend to face Corypheus alone?” he said incredulously. “I think not.”

“So you place loyalty to a friend over an ideal then?”

“I give my loyalty to those who deserve it and fight for ideals I can get behind,” Dorian replied. “Not that a qunari would understand that.”

He watched the Iron Bull out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge the qunari reaction. But aside from a small smirk, his face remained stubbornly unreadable.

He turned his attention back to the two, who were actually leaning a little closer to each other, talking too quietly for him to hear. Gwen did look up at him once with a slight smile, but quickly turned her attention back to the board where Cullen was moving another chess piece. Dorian had to smile when he saw Cullen deliberately did not take one of Gwen’s rooks.

“She’s most definitely got him hooked,” Iron Bull said.

“I thought that was general knowledge,” Dorian commented.

“Yeah, but it’s fun to see when he’s passing up taking a tower and made that really dumb move with his tamassran. I’ll admit that the boss has experience with the game, but he’s beaten me several times, and I’m a good player.”

“If I’d know Cullen could beat a Ben-Hassrath, I might have refused to play,” Dorian said.

“But then you wouldn’t have this golden opportunity to play cupid with the Boss,” the Iron Bull said with a slightly evil grin. “Tell me, why are you trying so hard to get them together?”

“Because they’re two people who’ve clearly have had rotten luck in their lives, and need something to go right for a change. Can’t I wish that for them?”

“It just seem an odd thing for you to be so invested in,” the Iron Bull said. “I mean, why try to push them along?”

“Because between Cullen’s lack of confidence and Gwen’s over-analyzing, I’m afraid they’ll pass up an opportunity,” Dorian said. “Blame the romantic in me.”

“Is that why you read shitty romance novels?” Bull teased.

“I don’t—I read good sources of literature,” Dorian replied. “The only reason I’m reading this is because Cassandra practically begged me.”

“So you do as others tell you?”

“What? No,” Dorian said. “Honestly, I just haven’t had a chance to give it back to her. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to be left to spy in peace.”

“And leave you to have all the fun?” Iron Bull replied. “Besides, with me here it looks less suspicious.”

“I– You– Alright, fine,” Dorian replied reluctantly. “Just don’t expect much conversation.”

Dorian went back to reading— _pretending_ to read—his book. As he watched the two of them, Cullen said something to Gwen, and she burst out laughing. Well, perhaps Cullen wasn’t completely hopeless if he could make her laugh.

He heard the Iron Bull give a sigh, “Young love.”

Dorian gave Iron Bull a skeptical look.

“They’re not _that_ young. Cullen’s older than me by a year.”

“Well, they both act like young lovers,” Bull said. “Especially when you take into account Cullen’s lack of experience.”

“Hmm…” Dorian said in response. He supposed he could see Bull’s point. Despite their ages, Cullen and Gwen _did_ act like young lovers, stumbling over each other at every turn. It was just lucky that Gwen actually knew how to flirt. It was just the culture she’d grown up in she had to overcome.

“So,” Dorian finally said. “Do you think they can make it?”

The Iron Bull looked over at the two of them, both of whom were actually focusing on the chessboard now, and seemed to be studying them.

“I think if Cullen gets over his lack of self-confidence, and the Boss can learn to trust people, yeah, I think they have a chance.”

Dorian felt a small smile quirk his lips, as his gaze fell back on the two in question.

“This may be the longest we’ve gone without discussing the Inquisition—or related matters,” Cullen said. “To be honest, I appreciate the distraction.”

“We should spend more time together,” Gwen said, smiling softly at him.

Cullen looked up, and though he couldn’t see his face, Dorian could tell from his tone of voice that Cullen was surprised by her offer.

“I would like that.”

“Me, too,” Gwen replied, and the look on her face was one Dorian hadn’t seen there before. He’d almost have said it was love, but it seemed too soon to make such assumptions. Perhaps affection was the best word to use. With that look, Dorian found himself wishing the best for her.

At least one of them should get a happy ending.

Cullen spoke too quietly for Dorian to hear what he said next, but it clearly had an effect on Gwen. She actually looked down a little, like she was suddenly feeling shy, but judging by her smile, she clearly wasn’t displeased by what he’d said.

He couldn’t really tell what Cullen’s reaction was, except that he too was also looking down at the board.

“We should… finish our game. Right,” Cullen said, looking up at Gwen again. “My turn?”

Gwen didn’t say anything, but just gave a nod, watching him with a bit of a smile.

“She trusts him,” Dorian said. “I think that’s what matters.”

To his surprise, Bull actually nodded in agreement.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she did something about the two of them by tomorrow,” he said.

Dorian gave the Iron Bull an incredulous look.

“You just said they had two big hurdles to overcome and now you think they’ll be courting by tomorrow?”

“I said they could make it,” the Iron Bull corrected. “But look at the way she’s looking at him. Her soft eyes and her smile. She’s not trying to hide it anymore. She’s made up her mind to at least give it a try.”

“I give it a few days,” Dorian said. “She’s got a lot she’s had to overcome about the two of them.”

The Iron Bull shrugged.

“I’ll take that bet.”

“What? You’re betting on them?”

“Why not?” he said. “Varric’s already got a betting pool. Ten gold pieces that the Boss asks him tomorrow.”

For a moment, Dorian thought about saying no, but changed his mind.

“Alright,” Dorian said. “I bet that it will take two days for her to ask.”

The Iron Bull held out his hand and Dorian shook it. By the Maker he was making a bet with a qunari. How had this happened?

Once again Dorian found himself noting how well muscled Bull was. Really, he was quite a good looking man.

“Ah, Dorian,” Bull said.

“Hmm?”

“You can let go of my hand now,” he said.

Dorian quickly let go of Bull’s hand and turned his attention back to Gwen and Cullen to hide his embarrassment. What in Thedas had he been thinking?

“I didn't get much sleep last night,” Dorian said.

“Ah,” the Iron Bull said. “I understand.”

“I don't think you do,” Dorian replied. “You've never had to hide what you are.”

“Everyone has to hide something,” he said. “The Boss pretends she's not a victim, Cullen pretends he's in control when he's barely holding on, and you pretend you don't care what the world thinks of you when you really do.”

Dorian scowled at Bull and retorted, “And you pretend like you're not bothered by what the Qun asks you to do.”

This time, it was Bull’s turn to scowl.

“Perhaps I am, but it's my way of life,” he said. “I'm sure there are things and ideas you hold on to from home. Even if your own people won't accept you.”

Dorian couldn’t argue with that.

“Yes,” he said. “It helps with the homesickness.”

“If you like, we can share some Sun Blonde Vint once you're done spying. I managed to get my hands on some.”

“How?” Dorian said in amazement.

“I have my ways,” he said.

For a moment, Dorian was conflicted, but the desire for a taste of home was too great to resist.

“Alright,” he said. “In a moment. I want to see who wins.”

They watched as Cullen and Gwen played, after a while the Iron Bull shook his head.

“He's letting her win,” he said.

“I noticed,” Dorian replied with a smile. “I bet she wins in two moves.”

Sure enough, Gwen soon had Cullen in check. Cullen knocked over his king and leaned back in his chair.

“Looks like this game is yours,” he said. “Well done.”

She gave him a coy smile.

“Perhaps next time you'll have better luck.”

“Perhaps,” Cullen replied.

 _Maker's breath,_ Dorian thought. _Just kiss already._

It was very clear that they wanted to.

They didn't. But Dorian didn't miss the coy smile she gave him or how she briefly touched his arm. Again, that warm affectionate look came back into her expression.

Suddenly, Dorian wasn't feeling so confident about his bet.

He turned to the Iron Bull and said, “I think I'll have that drink.”

Bull smiled and gave a small jerk of his head to indicate that Dorian should follow. Dorian gave Gwen and Cullen one last look. They were still talking, both of them for once looking completely relaxed around each other. It was as though, for a moment, both of them had forgotten about the war and the troubles that they faced in that garden.

Dorian couldn’t help his smile as he followed after the Iron Bull. Perhaps he’d never find someone to fall in love with in either the north or the south. But he could say that he’d at least helped two people work past their differences and find each other.

At that moment, he didn’t care if he lost the bet with Bull. The Tevinter wine would be worth ten gold pieces simply because it would’ve been a taste of home. Because despite his father, despite the loss of Rilienus, and the terrible things his countrymen had done, he loved his homeland.

He’d drink wine with a quari just to get a taste of the home he loved.


	16. First Kiss

The morning light poured into his office as Cullen sat at his desk, writing. There were piles of paperwork he needed to get through, but for once in his life, he couldn’t concentrate on duty. Instead, he was sitting at his desk, quill in hand, trying to write a letter.

Specifically, a letter to Gwen.

As his quill hovered over a piece of parchment liberally littered with scratched out lines, he looked again at the letter Gwen hand sent him. He’d hardly let her letter out of his sight since it arrived at Skyhold. His gaze fell on one line specifically.

_I’ve missed talking to you._

It was pathetic to put so much stock in one line, but it had given him hope. And after their chess game, Cullen had a feeling that if he told her how he felt, she wouldn’t have been unresponsive. The problem was, he never seemed to be able to find his tongue when he tried to talk to her about his feelings.

He was starting to despair that he’d ever be able to tell Gwen when the brilliant idea of writing to her had come to him. That had been over an hour ago and he still was no closer to telling her how he felt.

He gave another growl of frustration and crumbled up the piece of parchment, tossing it to the floor, to join its brethren before grabbing another to try again. Maker, why was this so difficult?

Cullen paused for a moment before trying yet again to put his thoughts on paper.

_Lady Trevelyan,_

_For some time now I’ve come to the realization that I admire and care for you. If you feel that you reciprocate any—_

Cullen groaned and crossed out the sentence. When he’d started this morning, he’d thought it was an excellent solution to his problem, writing his feelings to avoid his stuttering confessions, but he was still no closer to telling Gwen how he felt.

Perhaps he should ask Dorian for help? He and seemed Gwen fairly close. On second thought, Dorian's eccentricities might not be the best thing to put into his confessions. This had to be from him.

But how could he describe how he felt? How to tell her that with each passing day he found it harder to keep her out of his mind? That he wanted to hold her and kiss her like he should have done at Haven?

He had a hard enough time speaking to her without duties and formality behind him, and now writing wasn't working either. Dorian was right; if he didn't act soon, the moment would pass.

He was about make yet another attempt, when there was a soft knock at the door.

“Come in,” he said distractedly.

The door opened and Gwen walked in, the sunlight radiating off her hair.

Abruptly, Cullen stood up, covering his ill written note with another slip of parchment. “Inquisitor! I…”

He looked around his mess of an office and groaned in his head. Why did she have to come down this early?

Gwen stepped on one of the pieces of parchment that Cullen had thrown on the ground. She looked around the messy office before looking up at him, her brow furrowed.

“What’s happened in here?”

Cullen reached up and started rubbing the back of his neck.

“I was… Ah…”

He searched for some excuse, when Gwen suddenly shook her head.

“Nevermind,” she said, waving her hand. Cullen waited to hear what she’d come to say with relief. Only she said nothing. Looking more closely at her, Cullen realized that Gwen actually looked nervous.

“Is something wrong Inquisitor?” he asked.

“No,” Gwen said quickly. She closed her eyes and winced.

“I thought we could talk,” she said carefully. “ _Alone._ ”

“Alone?” he echoed. “I-I mean, of course.”

Gwen looked relieved, and quickly headed for the door that lead to the battlements. Cullen watched her for a moment before following, wondering why she was so nervous. She paused briefly by the door to wait for him, and Cullen stepped up beside her with a muttered apology.

They walked together for a while on the battlements in silence. If Cullen hadn’t been feeling nervous himself, he might have enjoyed the peaceful company. Gwen’s continued silence, though, was making him anxious.

It appeared it would be up to him to say something. Josephine always suggested that, in times like these, it was best to stick to small talk.

“It’s a nice day,” he said, his hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

“What?” Gwen said, clearly not paying attention. Cullen tried again.

“It’s… There was something you wished to discuss,” he lead.

Gwen took a deep breath.

“I know when I left for Crestwood, I said that I was confused about some things. But…” she hesitated, pushing a strand of hair out of her face before continuing.

“Cullen, I actually do care for you and…”

She gave a helpless sigh, her shoulders slumped as she looked away from him, but Cullen could feel his own heart pounding. Had she really said that she cared for him?

“What’s wrong?” he managed to ask.

She looked up at him through her bangs, a blush on her cheeks.

“You left the templars,” she said slowly. “But do you trust mages? Could you think of me as anything more?”

“I could,” he said, surprising himself with the immediacy of his response. “I– I mean I do, think of you… and what I might say in this sort of situation.”

He’d tried to keep looking at her as he said this. What if he said the wrong thing again?

He looked away from her, desperate to hide his own flushed face. He started to walk away from her, but Gwen stepped ahead and blocked his path. “What’s stopping you?”

 _So many things,_ he thought.

“You’re the Inquisitor,” he said with a shake of his head. “We’re at war. And you… I didn’t think it was possible.”

The nervousness that had been so prevalent on her face before suddenly melted away.

“And yet I’m still here.”

That... was true. He stepped closer to her, his heart beginning to pound within his chest. Maker, she was beautiful when she smiled.

“So you are,” he said, leaning in closer to her. “It seems too much to ask, but I want to–.”

Just as he was drawing in close enough to finally kiss her, he heard the door open and a voice rang out.

“Commander.”

Immediately, the moment was broken. The warmth he’d felt was gone, replaced by irritation, and Gwen was suddenly looking away from him.

Cullen heard the man continue to walk toward them speaking all the while.

“You wanted a copy of Sister Leliana’s report.”

Cullen turned toward Jim and growled. “ _What?_ ”

Still completely oblivious, Jim held the report out. “Sister Leliana’s report? You wanted it delivered without delay.”

 _Of all the—Void take this man and make him suffer for eternity,_ Cullen thought. It was just his luck that when things were _finally_ going well with Gwen, that they’d be interrupted. Didn’t the man have _any_ sense?

Stepping forward, Cullen glared into his eyes, hoping Jim could see every dark thought going through his head at that moment. Jim hesitated and looked between Cullen and Gwen. Finally, Jim connected the dots.

“Or… to your office,” he said, starting to back away. “Right.”

He dashed off before Cullen could do anything else. Once the door was shut, Cullen turned back to Gwen, and his heart sank. Gwen was looking away, out over the courtyard, expression distant.

“If you need to—”

Closing the gap between them, Cullen pulled her into a kiss.

Her body stiffened as he pressed his lips against hers. _Maker, what am I doing?_

He wondered if he should let her go and apologize when she suddenly relaxed and leaned into him. At that, he relaxed too. A few more seconds passed before he had to pull away for air.

“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. “That was, um...really nice.”

A smile spread across Gwen’s face, all signs of hesitance gone.“ _That_ is what I wanted.”

Cullen felt his smile turned smug. “Oh, good.”

He leaned in to kiss her again, pulling her a little closer. She tilted her head a little to the left and gently pressed her lips against his, her right hand combing through his hair in a way that sent sparks through his scalp. She pressed fluttering kisses to his lips, before parting her mouth to suck on his lower lip.

He could forget the Inquisition if he could just stay right here in this moment with her.

When they finally pulled apart, Cullen couldn’t help but notice that she was as out of breath as he was and he wondered if her heart was pounding as hard as his.

She smiled a little and looked up at him through her lashes as she asked, “Just how long have you wanted to do that?”

He chuckled, “Longer than I should admit.”

A warm smile crossed her face, and he was about to kiss her again when another door opened and a guard walked out.The guard stared at both of them for a moment before Gwen gave him a slight smile. Clearly flustered, the guard bowed and turned away.

“Perhaps we should speak later,” Gwen said. “Otherwise we’ll have all the staff talking about us by midday.”

Disappointed though he was, he had to agree. He suspected that the changing of the guard was the cause of this more recent interruption, but he didn’t really want to risk it again.

“We’ll speak later then?” he asked.

She smiled back at him.“Yes, I’d like that.”

She leaned up and gave him one last quick kiss on the lips before pulling away.

Cullen watched her go, his mind—for once—not caring about paperwork, drills, or the war.  


	17. Bitter Rivals

After Gwen left Cullen on the battlements, she had a hard time containing her excitement.The kiss wasn’t the best one she ever had, but she still felt like a giddy apprentice. Her chest felt warm, like a glow from candle.

Gwen smiled as she remembered the shy look Cullen had given her after the kiss. He’d been afraid that he’d been too brash, but her smile and some encouragement had absolved him of that.

His kisses made her long to be closer to him. It’d been a long time since she’d slept with someone, but she resisted the urge to draw him into a private corner. There was something about the way Cullen held himself that told her that if she wanted this to last, she’d wait till he was ready. Perhaps it was his shyness around the whole situation, but she got the strong impression that the suggestion of an intimate evening would ruin things.

There was one other reason.

On her way back from Crestwood, Gwen had told herself that she was really going to try to make this relationship work. It was only fair to Cullen, who clearly wanted something meaningful. Part of that, for her, meant actually trying to build something lasting from this, to center their relationship around something more than just sex.

She only hoped that she could make it last. She was good at getting people to like her, but she could count on one hand the number of people she had a deep connection with.

Even her relationship with Gregory had been more about sex. She’d kept him at a distance; there was never really a reason to let him know who she was.

The question was: Could she let Cullen know? Could she ever tell him about the scar that had been inflicted on her soul by someone she’d once loved?

She wasn’t sure.

Her musings were interrupted by Scout Harding’s arrival.

“Excuse me, Inquisitor,” she said. “But Lady Cassandra wanted me to let you know that she wanted to see you.”

“Did she say what for?” Gwen asked, though she had a sneaking suspicion it was about the Seekers.

“She didn’t say,” Harding replied. “Though she did said take your time.”

Gwen smiled and shook her head at the dwarf’s comment. It was still early in the morning, but was it possible that the aide that had interrupted her and Cullen had already spread the news that they’d been alone together? Gossip could spread very quickly through Skyhold.

Perhaps there was an innocent enough reason, though something in Scout Harding’s look told her that was unlikely.

“Alright,” Gwen said. “I’ll go and speak with her.”

“Great,” Scout Harding said. “And I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

“You didn’t,” Gwen said, giving her a warm smile.

As she walked past Scout Harding, Gwen caught a glimpse of the disappointed expression that crossed her face. She wanted to keep that moment she’d share with Cullen to herself for at least a little bit longer.

Gwen made her way over to where some of the soldiers has established a small practice ring, dummies usually in various states of disrepair. Cassandra could usually be found there early in the mornings swinging her sword at them.

To her surprise, though, Cassandra wasn’t practicing, but sitting on a stool, reading a novel.

“Good book?” Gwen asked, leaning slightly closer to see which one it was.

To her great surprise, Cassandra startled and slammed the book shut. She turned to face Gwen, hiding the book behind her back as she spoke.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Gwen studied her in confusion, it was not like Cassandra to look so nervous. As she looked more closely though...

“Wait,” Gwen said with a smile. “Are you blushing?”

“What would I have to blush about?” Cassandra replied defensively.

“You tell me,” Gwen said with a shrug. Cassandra continued to look flustered

She looked down at the ground and mumbled, “It’s of no interest to you, I’m certain.”

Gwen was still confused, and gave her another shrug. It _was_ just a book, after all. Seeing her look, Cassandra sighed and brought the book out from behind her back.

“It’s a book,” she said flatly.

“I can see that,” Gwen replied. “What I’m wondering is, why you’re acting like I’ve caught you stealing sweets.”

“It…” Cassandra said, her face turning bright red. “One of Varric’s tales. Swords and Shields, the latest chapter.”

“So you like to read—what’s wrong with that?”

“It’s frivolous,” Cassandra explained. “There are more important things for me to do.”

“Cassandra,” Gwen replied. “Contrary to what you and Cullen think, it’s okay to take a break now and then.”

“That’s just her favorite,” Dorian said, walking off the battlement stairs, clearly eavesdropping. Cassandra started again and glared at him.

“Nobody asked you, _Tevinter,_ ” she said. Dorian laughed.

“I couldn’t finish the last one you gave me. I actually feel dumber for having tried.”

Cassandra looked like she wanted to kick Dorian, but it was Gwen who ended up giving him a little shove.

“Let her be,” she replied. “Or I’ll tell her how much you actually do like Ferelden beer.”

“I said no such thing,” he replied indignantly. “And mention it again, and I’ll tell everyone that you were caught kissing our dear Commander on the battlements.”

“Like that isn’t already going to be the sole topic discussed at dinner tonight,” Gwen said dismissively.

“Clearly, I need to find better blackmail material,” he said, walking away. Gwen turned her attention back to Cassandra, who was shifting her feet.

“Just ignore him, Cassandra,” Gwen said shaking her head. Her words seemed to have little effect, though.

“No, he’s right,” she said. “It’s literature… _smutty_ literature.”

Gwen had to admit she was surprised. She’d not expected Cassandra to be into such things given her more serious nature. Though, Cassandra was not Cullen. She was about to respond when Cassandra’s expression suddenly filled with panic.

“Whatever you do, don’t tell Varric,” she said urgently.

“Maybe _I_ should read that book,” Gwen teased. This did nothing to assuage Cassandra’s embarrassment nor panic.

“You? No!”

“Why not me? You can get some interesting idea’s from such books,” Gwen replied.

“You’re the Inquisitor,” Cassandra sputtered.

Gwen snorted.

“Trust me, Cassandra,” Gwen replied. “Even being trained as a potential Grand Enchanter, I still found time to read smutty books.”

“No, it’s just…” Cassandra began, and then sighed.

“They’re terrible,” she explained. “And magnificent.”

“The best kind of smut,” Gwen said with a shrug and a smile. Cassandra looked pleased by her comment, and she suddenly didn’t look so rattled.

“ _This_ one ends in a cliffhanger,” Cassandra continued. “I know Varric is working on the next, he must be!”

As far as Gwen knew Varric wasn’t currently working on anything, though he had thrown around some ideas for retelling the tale of the Inquisitor. (Gwen wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She was sure that Varric would embellish things even more than they already were.)

“I don’t know,” Gwen admitted. “He’s only been teasing me about possibly writing a book about the Inquisition.”

“You could ask him to finish it!” Cassandra said, getting very excited all of the sudden. “You could _command_ him to…”

It seemed to suddenly occur to Cassandra what, exactly, she was saying, and her usual stern expression returned.

“Pretend you don’t know this about me,” she said warningly.

Gwen had to fight not to laugh. This whole encounter seemed so surreal, and yet it pleased her to learn that her no-nonsense friend loved to read romance novels. One of Varric’s no less.

Gwen made a mental note to read the book, if only to give herself and Cassandra something to talk about on the road. Though depending on what kind of romance writer Varric was, it might also give her some inspiring ideas.

“Alright, but I’m sure that’s not what you wanted to talk about,” Gwen said.

Cassandra once again, started to fidget.

“I honestly thought you were going to take a bit longer, given where you were heading,” she confessed. “Could you perhaps give me another half hour and meet me in the war room?”

“Alright,” Gwen replied. “I’m sure I can find something to do.”

Cassandra hesitated for a moment then added, “Inquisitor, if you and Cullen have… come to an understanding, I want you to know that I’m happy for both of you.”

“But I also want you to take this seriously. He’s not like you. He can’t just bounce back from being hurt,” she finished.

“Cassandra,” Gwen said. “I _am_ taking this seriously. I know I flirt with everyone, but I wouldn’t have started anything with him if I wasn’t going to give this a serious try. It didn’t take me long to see that Cullen’s not just in it for the fun.”

“Good,” Cassandra said. “I know it’s a bit forward of me, but I had to be sure.”

“You’re a good friend, Cassandra,” Gwen replied. “I’m glad that Cullen has someone like you to look out for him.”

“It’s not that I don’t think Cullen can’t look out for himself,” Cassandra clarified quickly. “It’s just, he’s a bit of a romantic, and he’s had his faith in people broken in the past.”

What was it about templars and seekers being complete romantics but being equally completely flustered when talking about love?

“Cass, it’s alright,” she said. “If I ever hurt him, feel free to give me a good kick in the ass.”

This time Cassandra actually smiled.

“You can count on it.”

She gave Gwen a bow and returned to her stool.

Smiling, Gwen made her way to the Great Hall. Cassandra was not wrong; she could ask Varric to finish the series, and it might help mend things between the two of them.

They’d been cooly cordial with each other since their argument about Hawke. If she could get Varric to write the next book of that romance series, perhaps she could mend a few bridges between them. Sometimes people just needed a little push to start being friends again.

She made her way to the Great Hall, heading straight for Varric. Before she could say a word to him though, Varric spoke up.

“I hear that you were seen kissing the Commander on the battlements,” he said with a wink.

“I suppose there’s no point in denying it,” Gwen replied.

“Not really,” he said. “You have that glow about you, Sparky.”

“Sparky?” Gwen said, frowning.

“Well, you certainly like to use lightning spells more than anything else,” he said. “I thought it was appropriate.”

“I could think of worse nicknames,” Gwen said with a shrug. She didn't mind Varric giving her a moniker; it made her feel like she'd been accepted.

“Too true,” Varric said. “I try not to give anyone an embarrassing name.”

“I’m not sure Cullen likes you calling him ‘Curly’ though,” she said.

Varric chuckled.

“Speaking of your templar, who kissed who first?” he asked.

“You don’t know?” Gwen asked.

“My report was from two guards who _happened_ to see the two of you before and after, looking rather intimate,” he said. “A lot of people were betting on you making the first move.”

Gwen smiled. She had to admit that she would have betted on herself too, but life could be surprising.

“Actually,” she said, “ _he_ kissed me.”

Varric actually looked surprised.

“Really?” he said. “Well, I clearly underestimated him. You’re not having me on, are you?”

Gwen shook her head, smiling. Varric looked quite pleased.

“You’ve disappointed several people,” Varric replied.

“Oh?” Gwen said cocking her eyebrow. Varric chuckled.

“Only Leliana and Harding bet it would be Cullen. Iron Bull bet that you would talk to Cullen about it today; I'll have to decide if I'm going to be nice and not go on the assumption that he thought you'd kiss him.”

“Let him have it,” she said with a wave of her hand.

“You’re going too soft on him, Sparky,” Varric said with a smile. “I’ll consider it–if you answer one more question.”

“And that is?”

“Who do you think will make the first move? Sparkles or Tiny?” Varric asked with a wicked smile. It took Gwen a moment to realize that he meant Dorian and the Iron Bull. She side-eyed him.

“You really think they’ll _actually_ become a thing?” Gwen asked.

“Why not? You and Curly finally worked past your differences,” Varric said shrugging.

“Yes, but that’s different,” Gwen replied. “Templars and mages have only been a war for a few years. And  we both were prisoners in different ways.”

“If you and Curly can get past years of conflict, than a Qunari and a Tevinter prince can get together,” Varric reiterated. “Call it a feeling.”

Gwen shook her head, though she had to admit that she didn’t completely disagree. There was definitely some sort of chemistry between them, even if Dorian flatly denied it. Void, at times she’d denied her own feelings for Cullen.

“Alright,” Gwen said. “My bet is that it will be Dorain.”

“Sparkles?”

“Yes,” Gwen said nodding. “And I’m betting that it will be at least six months before anything happens.”

“So long? You and Cullen only took five,” Varric said.

“Cullen and I didn’t have a hundred year war to work past,” Gwen pointed out. “They’re probably going to need more time.”

Before Varric could come back with a quippy response, Gwen pressed on with the real reason she’d come to see him.

“I have an interesting bit of information for you,” Gwen said. Just as she’d hoped, Varric perked up.

“Alright,” Varric replied. “I’ll bite.”

“Did you know that Cassandra is waiting for the next issue of _Swords and Shields_?”

To her delight, Varric actually looked shocked.

“I must have heard that wrong,” he said. “It sounded like you said that _Cassandra_ reads my books.”

“She’s a pretty big fan, in fact,” Gwen replied smugly.

“Are we talking about the same Cassandra?” Varric asked, still looking at her in disbelief. “Tall, grumpy Seeker? Likes stabbing things?”

“That’s the one,” she said. Varric stared at her, still processing what she’d said.

“Wait,” he said abruptly. “Did you say the romance serial? She’ll be waiting awhile then. I haven’t finished it and I wasn’t planning to.”

“Why not?” Gwen asked. She’d only read Varric’s _Tales of the Champion,_ and while she couldn’t say it was a great source of literature, it was an entertaining read.

“It’s easily the worst I’ve ever written,” Varric explained. “The last issue barely sold enough to pay for the ink.”

“Well, Cassandra seems to be hooked,” Gwen replied.

“And I honestly thought a hole in the sky was the weirdest thing that could happen,” Varric said.

“I bet you I’ve seen weirder,” Gwen replied. “However, I can’t remember all of them at the moment.”

Varric chuckled, “Fair point. So… You want me to finish writing the latest issue of my worst serial. For _Cassandra_.”

Gwen gave him an innocent shrug as she said, “I could think of a few good things to come out of it. Like helping mend things between you and Cassandra?”

This time Varric actually laughed, “You have quite a devious streak, Inquisitor. It’s such a terrible idea, I have to do it. On one condition.”

Gwen gave him a suspicious look. Was he going to ask her to kiss Cullen in the Great Hall? Not that she would mind that, but she was certain Cullen wouldn’t be comfortable with it.

“Nothing you need to worry about, Inquisitor,” Varric said. “I just want to be there when you give her the book.”

She smiled, relieved.

“It’s a deal.”

“I’ll get to work, then,” Varric said with an impish smile. He was enjoying this.

“You know,” he said. “The fact that the book is terrible just makes it more worthwhile, somehow.”

Gwen smiled back, imagining how flustered Cassandra had been only a short while ago.

“If you have a copy, I might take a look,” Gwen said.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” he said. “I’m _really_ not good at writing romance. It’s better if I just stick to smaller scenes in grander epics.”

“I noticed you didn’t talk about Hawke and Fenris that much,” Gwen replied. “Which reminds me–Hawke asked me to give you a letter to pass on to Fenris. It’s in my pack so I’ll have to bring it to you later.”

“That’s fine by me. Just leave it on the table in front of the fireplace with the rest of my stuff and I’ll arrange to get it sent his way,” he said.

“She really seems to care about him,” she said.

“She does,” Varric replied. “I was surprised they worked out so well. Fenris hated mages with a passion. Not without reason, but it took some time for him to come around.”

“If he hated mages so much, how did he end up with her?” She asked.

“Honestly, I think it’s because she was the first mage to treat him like a person,” he said. “She helped him learn how to read, helped him get his freedom, and just helped him be a better person. I still think he has a lot of issues to work through, but given what he was like at the beginning, I’d say he’s slowly improving.”

It was interesting that, in a way, she had a lot more in common with Hawke than she’d originally thought. Like her, Hawke had come to care for someone who deeply distrusted mages. Perhaps there was hope for the future–that in time, non-magic folk would come to trust mages.

Before Gwen could say anything else, Cassandra walked into the Great Hall. She saw Gwen and jerked her head towards the war room. Gwen nodded and followed, wishing Varric a good day on her way out.

Cassandra headed straight for the map of Thedas after they entered, surveying it for awhile before giving a heavy sigh.

“I can keep staring at this,” she said wearily, “but I won’t get any closer.”

“Something I can help you with?” Gwen asked.

“Yes,” Cassandra said curtly.

“Possibly,” she corrected after a beat.

She paused for a moment, looking back down at the map before continuing.

“We saw so many red templars at the assault on Haven. Perhaps all that is left of the Order. What we didn’t see, was Lord Seeker Lucius.”

It only now occurred to Gwen that Cassandra was right. She’d been so distracted by Corypheus and his dragon that she’d failed to note that the Lord Seeker wasn’t there.

“That _is_ odd,” Gwen agreed.

“Indeed. I’ve seen no hint of _any_ Seekers amongst the red templars,” Cassandra pressed on. “Or anywhere. I have a growing suspicion that Corypheus has imprisoned them somewhere.”

“Why ‘imprisoned’?” Gwen asked. It would be odd that Corypheus would make such efforts to imprison the Seekers if they’d proved to be unuseful. “He could just as easily have killed them.”

“Not _easily_ , but yes, they may be dead,” Cassandra relented. “But the Seekers began this war against the mages. They cannot have simply vanished. There _must_ be a trail we can follow, yet so far I have only discovered hints.”

“They could’ve ended up just like the red templars,” Gwen pointed out. She didn’t really know the difference between Seekers and templars, but it seemed plausible that they’d ended up like the red templars.

“Seekers do not use lyrium,” Cassandra explained. “I assume Corypheus gained control of the templars by corrupting the lyrium they were already taking. To do the same to a Seeker, you’d have to force the lyrium upon them.”

The Seekers didn’t use lyrium? Gwen had always assumed that they were a very powerful form of templar, but from what Cassandra was saying, that was not the case.

“So you think Corypheus forced them to take lyrium?”

“That may be what happened,” Cassandra agreed. “But it couldn’t have begun that way. We’re missing a piece of the puzzle, Inquisitor. I need to find it.”

“Finding them obviously means a lot to you,” Gwen replied, nodding.

Cassandra looked relieved.

“Thank you,” she said. “I left the Order, but I can never abandon them. I cannot even claim that rescuing them would be beneficial—they wouldn’t look kindly on the Inquisition. But even so, if there’s a chance…”

“I get it,” Gwen said. “It’s the same with Cullen. He left the Order, but he still cares. You want to make sure your family is alright.”

“I… Yes,” she said. “I suspect it’s the same for you and the Circle.”

“No,” Gwen admitted. “But I understand the sentiment. You want to preserve what you still have.”

“Is there really nothing you’d want to preserve from the Circle?” Cassandra asked.

“No, not really,” Gwen said. “It was a prison. One that kept me with jailers that were treated almost as badly as we were, though in a different way. It makes it difficult to make friends when you know there could be a day your friends are taken away. ”

She stopped abruptly, realizing she might have just shared too much. She composed herself, burying the anger she always kept pushed away. Cassandra had seen it though.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sympathetically. “I know that mages in the Free Marches have suffered immensely. Things have to change, but we can’t do that without some sort of structure to build from.”

“I know,” Gwen said. “And if you think finding the Seekers will help, I’ll do what I can. As much as I hate to admit it, we still need Seekers and Templars.”

“If we can spare resources to follow up on these leads, Inquisitor, I would appreciate it,” she said.

“I’ll get one of the advisors to look into it,” Gwen agreed. “I’m sure either Leliana or Cullen would be willing to help.”

Cassandra nodded.

“It’s a lot to ask, but I’m grateful for any help,” she said.

“It’s alright, Cassandra,” Gwen assured her. “You’re right that things need to change. It’s why I stayed–I wanted to make things better. Not just mages, but for everyone. If being here means I can make a difference, then I have to at least give it a try.”

“Truly, Andraste must have sent you,” she said, in admiration.

“Maker, _please_ tell me you’re not going to get down on your knees and start praying?” Gwen said, rolling her eyes.

“Of course not,” Cassandra said. “But I can’t help but feel that it’s no mistake that you survived.”

“Honestly, I just think it was pure luck,” Gwen replied. “I’m not sure if it’s good luck or bad, but luck nonetheless.”

“Well, forgive me if I don’t agree,” Cassandra replied. “Despite what Corypheus says, I can’t help but feel the Maker’s hand is somehow involved.”

Gwen shrugged.

“At this point, I’ve given up on trying to convince people otherwise. Just… I’d prefer a friend over another worshipper,” she said.

“You consider me a friend?” Cassandra asked in surprise.

“I’d like to,” Gwen replied. “Maker knows, you’ve been there for me often enough, and now I know your darkest secret.”

“What darkest secret?”

“That you love romance novels,” Gwen teased.

“I don’t love–Alright, maybe I do, but don’t go spreading it around,” Cassandra said, her face flushing.

“I won’t,” Gwen laughed. “If it helps, spiders terrify me.”

“You’re joking,” Cassandra replied flatly.

“I’m not,” Gwen assure her. “Ask Dorian if you don’t believe me.”

“But you remain so calm when we’ve faced them on the road,” Cassandra replied in disbelief.

“I’ve had a lot of practice hiding what I’m really thinking,” she said. “Internally, I’m freaking out. I mean, those eyes. And the legs.”

Gwen shuddered.

“I’ll admit they’re not the most pleasant creatures to face,” Cassandra said, chuckling. “And I’m glad to know you consider me a friend. I probably should’ve guessed, but people always seem to find me terrifying.”

“Trust me,” Gwen said. “There are much more terrifying things out in the world.”

Before Cassandra could say anything in response, the door to the War Room opened and Josephine poked her head in.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “but I was hoping to borrow the Inquisitor.”

“I’ll be right out,” Gwen said. “Just give me a minute.”

Josephine nodded and closed the door behind her. Gwen turned her attention back to Cassandra.

“I’ll find out where the Seekers are,” she said. “And we’ll get to the bottom this.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor,” Cassandra replied. “And I’m happy for you and Cullen.”

“Thank you,” Gwen said, knowing there was no point in denying it. “I admit, I’m glad it worked out.”

“Me, too,” Cassandra said. “I know it’s not easy crossing that line.”

“True,” Gwen agreed. “But sometimes, lines need to be crossed.”


	18. Riding

A horn sounded, announcing the return of the Inquisitor. For the first time that day, Cullen looked up from his paper work.

Gwen was back.

As quickly as he could, Cullen signed off on the last of his reports, made sure no important documents were left out, and rushed down to the courtyard.  Refugees gathered in clusters, hoping for a glimpse of the famed Inquisitor. Cullen pushed his way towards the front and watched the party enter through the gates.

Gwen was not riding her usual mount, but a horse, calmly chatting with Cassandra. Josephine was just behind her, looking vaguely upset. What had they discovered in Val Royeaux that would’ve made their sunny Josephine so morose?

As the party dismounted Cullen waited, unsure if he should approach or stay where he was. He wanted to go up and hug Gwen and see if Josephine was alright, but he wasn’t sure if she’d be comfortable with that.

Thankfully, Gwen made the choice for him, crossing to him with a warm smile across her face. As soon as she was close enough, she reached out and wrapped her arms around him. Surprised, Cullen hugged her back, loving the feeling of Gwen pressed against him. Maker he’d missed her.

As they separated, Josephine walked up to them. She still looked like something was bothering her.

“When you have a moment, I’d like to talk,” she said to Gwen.

“Of course,” Gwen replied, reaching out to give her hand a squeeze. “I’ll come to your office in a bit.”

“Are you alright?” Cullen asked her, a little worried.

“I’m fine,” Josephine replied. “Thing are just a little more complicated than I thought. But I can fix it.”

“If you need help...,” Cullen offered, wondering if there was anything he could really do.

“Unfortunately, Commander, this is a bit beyond your expertise,” she said with a grateful smile. “But I have some thoughts, and with the Inquisitor’s help I’m sure it will be solved.”

She left before Cullen could say another word. He looked down at Gwen, confused. She looked up at him and shrugged.

“Family history, apparently,” she said, answering his unspoken question. “A common hazard amongst nobles. But more on that later. I was hoping we could slip away for a moment.”

He didn’t need to ask what she meant. In the few days she’d been around after their first kiss, Gwen had frequently come by his office and asked if they could be alone. They’d only been courting for a short time, but he treasured every moment with her.

“By all means,” he said with a small smile. She smiled back and handed the reins of her mount off to a guard, both of them heading for the battlements.

As soon as they reached what he’d come to think of as _their_ private spot on the battlements, Gwen pulled him close and kissed him. This time, she didn’t start with fluttering kisses, but pressed her lips against his. As she sucked on his lower lip, his heart began to beat faster. When she parted her lips he didn’t hesitate to deepen their kiss.

Maker, how he’d missed her.

When they finally pulled apart, Gwen was smiling warmly at him.

“I missed you,” she said softly.

“As did I,” he replied. “Honestly, I wish we had longer than a few days before you leave for the Western Approach.”

“It can’t be helped,” she said as she grimaced. “But you have me all day tomorrow, if you can get away from your work. And I was thinking we could go somewhere outside of Skyhold. I know a place that’s quiet and away from the crowds.”

“Alright,” he said. “So long as we can get back in good time.”

“Cullen,” Gwen said. “I’m trying to get some _us_ time before I go on a month long trip, and here you are already worrying about work.”

“You're right,” Cullen replied, reaching up to rub his neck. “I'm sorry. I'm not used to this… courting thing.”

A half-smile crossed Gwen's face as she shook her head.

“It’s alright,” she said. “Thankfully, I know you like to work late hours. So, we’ll meet by the stables by mid-morning bell?”

“I’ll be there, I promise,” he said.

“Good,” she said. “And sadly this is all the time I have right now. I need to talk to Josie, but you’ll meet me in the Great Hall for dinner?”

“Yes,” Cullen agreed wishing that he didn’t have to let her go. He leaned down and gave her one last kiss, before pulling away.

She hummed pleasantly and said, “Tease.”

Cullen smiled.

He returned to his office and to his paperwork, noting that the workload didn’t seem as heavy as before. Gwen always seemed to have that effect. He supposed with time it might pass, but for now, he savored it.

He worked through the day, his thoughts traveling between his duties and Gwen. He hadn’t accomplished much when suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he said without looking up.

“Cullen?”

 _Shit_.

He looked up, and the first thing he noted was the dark sky behind Gwen. He’d completely lost track of time.

“Maker’s breath, I’m sorry,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “I lost track of time.”

“I think you’ve got an ink stain on the side of your nose,” she said, taking out a linen handkerchief. She reached up to the right side of his face, and wiped it across the side of his nose. Sure enough, there was a black inkstain on the cloth when she pulled it away. Cullen grimaced.

“Gwen, I mean it, I’m sorry,” he said. “I normally don’t eat until late as the hall is usually empty by then.”

“Well, it certainly is now,” Gwen said, with a hint of a smile. “Even the food’s gone.”

Just how late was it?

“Look,” she said. “Don’t worry about it. Leliana pulled me aside for a long meeting anyway. The tavern’s still open, though, and I’m sure Barkeep still has some food. I’m more worried about you eating something. Did you have _any_ food today?”

“I…” Cullen couldn’t remember if he had. They’d arrived late mid-morning, but he wasn’t sure if he’d had someone bring him breakfast or not.

“I’ll take that as a no,” she said, taking his hand. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.”

“I promise I’ll be there tomorrow,” Cullen replied, following her out of the room. “Mid-morning, right?”

“Correct,” she said. “Now, come on, you look like you could use a cool drink.”

Cullen followed, swearing to himself that he’d be up at the crack of dawn and wait by the stables if it meant meeting her on time.

 

* * *

 

 

In the end, he didn’t have to worry about waking up in time. His night had ended up being filled with fitful dreams that kept him from falling into a deep sleep. By the time the sun was rising, Cullen had given up on trying to get anymore rest hours, and had already done a run around the training grounds, grabbed some food from the Great Hall and was waiting by the stables, idly chatting with Blackwall about working with some of the newer recruits.

When Gwen arrived, she had a pack in her hands and was smiling.

“Did you wait here all night?” She teased.

“No,” he said, ruefully. “I just got up early.”

“Very early,” Blackwall said. “It was like he was anxious to see you.”

Bushing, Cullen took Gwen’s hand in his and followed her to the stables.

Master Dennet gave them his usual curt greeting before addressing Gwen.

“Same mount, Inquisitor?”

“Yes, if she’s available,” Gwen said.

“Honestly, she prefers you to anyone else,” Master Dennet replied. “I think she was a bit miffed you left without her. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve spoiled her.”

“Maybe just a little,” Gwen said, walking up the the large hart, and rubbing her nose. Swiftfoot nuzzled her, to Gwen’s giggles. Cullen smiled. He was quickly distracted by Master Dennet, who had come to stand by him.

“Shall I get your mount, Commander?” he asked.

“Yes, unless you have another horse that needs to be broken in,” Cullen said.

“Well, yes,” Master Dennet said. “I have a gelding that’s still a bit skittish, if you’re willing to ride him.”

“I’ll work with him,” he replied.

Master Dennet gave a quick bow, and walked back over to the stables. As he did, Gwen cocked her head to the side curiously.

“I didn’t know you had experience with horses,” she said.

“My father had my younger brother and I help out in the stables. The villagers sometimes brought him horses that needed breaking in and taught us how to handle them,” he replied.

“Here he is,” Master Dennet said before Gwen ask anymore questions.

The gelding was black and as Dennet handed the reins over to him, the gelding tugged, trying to pull away. Cullen held on to the horse until it settled down. He reached up then and began to stroke the horse’s neck, talking until the gelding settled down.

Gwen watched in amazement as Cullen calmed the horse down.

A smile crossed Gwen’s face and she reached up to stroke the horse. He started at first, but then settled under her touch.

“You never really talk about your father before. Is he in South Reach, with your siblings?”

Cullen shook his head, looking back up at the horse.

“No,” he finally said. “He died during the Blight, along with my mother.”

Gwen stared at him for a long moment, before she went back to petting the horse.

“I’m sorry,” she said, but Cullen just shook his head.

“It happened a long time ago,” he said.

Gwen gave him a half smile and said, “He sounds like a good man.”

“He was,” Cullen replied. He then nodded to Gwen’s mount, who was now nuzzling her for attention. “I think someone's jealous.”

“No, she just smells the apple I brought her,” she said, and she dug into a pocket and pulled out a few apple slices and let the hart nibble on them. Cullen felt his horse try to grab one. Gwen held one out for the black horse.

“Do you just carry apples around all the time?” Cullen asked, with a slight smile.

“Why not? They make a great snack if you need one,” she said. “Also very good for making friends.”

She dug into her pocket and drew out two more apple slices and handed one to Master Dennet and to him. The horse master gave her an odd look before nodding and walking away. Shaking his head and smiling, Cullen slipped the apple slice into his mouth as they led their mounts to the gates.

“Just where are we going?” he asked.

She gave him a secretive smile, “You'll see.”

She nudged her mount, and set off along the mountain trail.

There wasn't much talking on this part of their journey. Occasionally, Gwen would pause and make a gesture with her hand, before continuing along the path. They had been on this path for some time and Cullen was about to ask just exactly where they were going when he saw a small hot spring.

The pool was a nice peaceful area. Grass was sprouting around it’s edge as well as some larger plant life. Even the tree’s had started to grow their own buds. Gwen dismounted and let Swiftfoot graze on the grass. Cullen follow suit, trailing Gwen as she traversed the edge of the pool until they reached a group of rocks that served as seats.

“How did you find this place?” Cullen asked, sitting beside Gwen. She reached down and opened up her pack and pulled out some apples, handing one off to him.

“Out of pure luck, actually” Gwen said. “I magically marked it so I could find it again.”

“What about the Venatori?” Cullen asked. “What if one of them pick up on the mark?”

“The spell is undetectable to any mage except me,” Gwen said with a shrug. “And there are wards around the area now, so I’m not as worried about someone sneaking up on us.”

She gave him a gentle nudge with her elbow at his sheepish look.

“It’s nice to know that someone worries about me. And perhaps it was bit foolish to come out here alone, that first time. At the time I just wanted somewhere quiet to think.”

“And you couldn’t find that at Skyhold?” Cullen asked.

“Do you know what happens the moment I enter the Great Hall?” Gwen said, stepping in front of him. She straightened up and clasped her hands like the Orlesian ladies and began to speak.

“Oh your worship, it is such a pleasure to meet you. Did you know that your father and my father are _great_ friends? My, but your hair is lovely. I will have my hairdressers fashion my hair after yours.”

Despite himself, Cullen gave a snort of laughter. Smiling impishly, Gwen changed her stance to impersonate another noble, this time her nose sticking up in the air.

“Inquisitor,” Gwen said, lowering her voice. “I am the Lord of Some Important House, and I feel that we could form a great alliance. Also, did I mention I’m a _bachelor?_ ”

Again, Cullen couldn’t help but laugh at her impressions. They were completely ridiculous, but also very spot on.

“You see?” she chuckled. “How can I think when I’ve got people fawning over me like that? It’s hard enough not to burst out laughing at their ridiculous fashions.”

“I suppose you have me there,” he agreed.

Smiling, she sat down beside him and began to unpack the bag she’d carried with her. She pulled out two wrapped parcels, handing one of them to him. There was a pie inside, still steaming when he opened it. He let the pie cool for a few minutes before taking a bite, and his mouth exploded with savory flavors.

“This is good,” he said, looking down at the pie.

“Thank Krem for that,” she said. “He made them for me as a favor. Which is good—I'm not all that great at cooking. I never had to learn how to in the Circle.”

“I doubt your skills are as bad as Cassandra's,” he said. “After two days of it, I was glad Varric was with us. He, at least, can make something edible.”

“Cassandra’s cooking is terrible, but I can’t say much,” Gwen said. “I never asked anyone's opinion on the rare occasions I did the camp meal. Mostly, I tend to let Bull do the cooking.”

“Well, it's good to know there's some things you can't do,” Cullen said, teasing.

Gwen looked down at the ground.

“I'm not the Herald, you know,” Gwen said quietly. “I mean, I pretend to be for the people's sake, but…”

She paused for a moment before pressing on.

“I just want you to know, I'm as normal as any mage can be. I just have this strange mark that I don’t remember getting.”

“I know,” he replied.

She looked up at him in surprise.

“I'm… surprised. Given your general reverence for the Maker.”

“I believe in the Maker, and… well, maybe we’re wrong and Andrate _did_ choose you,” he said. “But I've yet to see the Maker or Andraste act so openly. Even in the most desperate of times.”

His mind drifted back to a dark room with the smell of blood in the air. How fervently he'd prayed for Andraste or the Marker to save him. However, no divine help came during his long imprisonment.

Gwen's hand suddenly reached out covered his own.

“Hey,” she said. “Where'd you go?”

“Sorry,” he replied . “I just… What I’m saying is, I think you’re a great person, but I don’t think that has anything to do with Andraste or the Maker. I think you’d be doing this even if you didn’t have the mark.”

Gwen cocked her head to the side, “Well, let’s be honest. If I didn’t have the mark I’d probably be dead along with everyone else at the Conclave.”

“Right—I mean—that’s not what I meant,” he said. “I just mean… You know…”

He was blushing now. He could feel the heat rising off his cheeks as he tried to salvage the conversation.

“I just mean, the mark didn’t make you who you are. I believe you already were that person.”   

“Commander Cullen,” Gwen said coyly. “Keep talking like that and I might just have to kiss you.”

Cullen blushed, but admittedly, he wouldn't have minded if she did. To his surprise, she leaned up and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Without thinking, Cullen stopped her with his right hand and pressed his lips to hers.

He started with gentle kisses, but as the moments passed, Cullen felt her press her body against his, her fingers threaded through his hair. Again, he felt sparks in his scalp, and he could feel the heat of her body against his. He pulled her even closer to him, and remembering how good it felt when she’d sucked on his lips, he tried it with her.

She gave a small moan. It was a good sort of moan, one that told him she was enjoying it. He did it again, taking a little longer with the kiss. When they finally pulled apart, she looked contented.

“Well,” she said, a little breathless. “You have gotten better. I might forget about lunch all together.”

If Cullen had been a smoother man like Dorian, he probably could've turned it into another kiss. He was distracted by the suggestive tone in her voice, and his face heated up. Unfortunately, Gwen noticed.

“You’re blushing, Commander,” she teased. “Just what exactly are you thinking right now?”

“I-I wasn’t–I– I mean… Maker’s breath,” Cullen stammered.

Maker, he’d completely lost his tongue, and was making a fool of himself. Cullen changed the subject.

“How did your meeting with the Comte go?” He asked.

“Terribly,” she said. “It turns out that the assassins guild has a contract on Josephine’s life for a family that’s long gone.”

“ _What?”_ Cullen asked incredulously. Gwen just shook her head.

“It's politics,” Gwen said. “Josephine has a long drawn out plan, but I think Leliana has the right idea to just destroy the contract. The longer we wait the more likely she'll get hurt.”

“And Lady Josephine's alright with that?” Cullen asked. “I know Leliana and Josie are friends, but she doesn't like ‘unnecessary violence’.”

“Not exactly,” Gwen said. “But I've seen what happens if you wait. It's not pretty.”

There was something about the look in her eyes that suggested something dark, but Gwen shook it off quickly and looked up at him.

“But enough about that,” she said. “I brought you out here to briefly escape our problems.”

Cullen gave a small laugh and said, “I wish I could escape mine as easily as you. Mine seem to follow me.”

“You mean Kirkwall?”

“That,” Cullen said hesitantly. “And a few other things.”

Gwen reached out and took his hand in hers, as she said softly, “And yet, here you are, working with mages, and helping to heal the world.”

Cullen didn't know what to say to that. She had no idea what he’d been a part of, what he’d allowed to happen, and he was starting to feel like he needed to share with her. He wasn’t sure he wanted to continue this thing with her if she didn’t know.

“It doesn't make up for what I did,” he replied. “I looked the other way when people needed my help. I almost didn’t accept Cassandra’s offer, you know; I felt at the time I didn’t deserve it.”

“You deserve the chance,” Gwen said. “Most people can’t even recognize it when they’re blinded by hate.”

He tried to smile at her, but it felt fake on his face. He was glad that Gwen was also willing to give him a second chance, but he still wasn’t sure if he deserved it.

Unable to find anything to say, he reached out and brushed her hair from her face. She smiled encouragingly at him before taking another bite of pie.

“So,” she said after she swallowed, “what happened while I was away?”

They both spent the rest of the time sharing stories, passing the time with stories from Gwen’s travels and Cullen’s tales from training the Inquisition’s forces. It was some time before Cullen thought to look up at the sun.

“I think we should head back soon,” Cullen said. “Otherwise Leliana might send out a search party. I still have a lot of work to do.”

“I suppose you're right,” Gwen agreed.

They both cleaned up after themselves before standing up and skirting the edge of the small glade. They were nearly back to their mounts when Gwen lost her footing. Quickly, Cullen reached out to help steady her, but in turn he lost his own footing. The next thing Cullen knew, he was lying in the pool soaking wet with Gwen standing over him.

“Maker, are you alright?” she asked, her expression anxious. She held out her hand to help him up.

“Except for my pride, yes,” he replied wryly, reaching up to take her hand. She pulled him up and Cullen gave a small shiver as the cold mountain air hit him.

“I always seem to make a fool of myself in front of you,” he said. He glanced down at his clothes and groaned. They were soaked. He’d have to get them washed.

“Would it be too embarrassing if I told you that I find it adorable?” she said, grinning.

Cullen felt his face flush a little as he muttered, “Maker’s breath.”

“Don't worry, I won’t tell anyone,” she said.

Her smile faded a little before looking up at him hesitantly.

“Would you be alright if I used some my magic on you? To dry your clothes, I mean.”

For a brief second, Cullen felt a moment of panic rise up within his chest, but he forced himself to calm down. This was Gwen, and he trusted her. The idea that she’d do anything to hurt him intentionally seemed ludicrous.

“Alright,” he said with a small intake of breath.

Giving a small nod, Gwen reached out and touched his clothing, her hand briefly glowing a reddish orange. There was a small sensation of warmth that overcame him as his soaked clothing began to dry. A few minutes later, it was as if he never fell into the pool.

“There,” she said. “Now you won’t get sick from the cold.”

Cullen gave a small laugh, though it wasn’t as heart-felt as before. Even though he trusted Gwen, he still felt nervous whenever mages used magic around him. To distract himself, he took a moment to try and brush away some of the worse of the dried mud.

“But I’ll have to get this washed,” he said. “Hopefully no one will ask why.”

“Well, if anyone does, I’ll just say you save me from a watery death,” Gwen said after trying to help brush off some the mud. “It’s almost the truth.”

This time, when Cullen chuckled, it was a little more genuine.

“I suppose it sounds a lot better than ‘The Commander lost his balance and fell into a pool’.”

Gwen laughed, and Cullen couldn’t help but smile a little back at her. Seeing him look at her, Gwen walked up beside him, and slid her hand into his.

“I’m glad to have spent this time with you,” she said softly. “Even if it did have a bit of a clumsy ending.”

Without a thought Cullen squeezed her hand a little.

“As am I,” he replied.

He looked down, and tried to collect his thoughts. After a few seconds he looked back at her.

“Thank you for asking, before using your magic,” he said. “Some mages forget to ask.”

He felt slightly embarrassed to admit this to her, but he needed her to know what it meant to him. To his relief, Gwen didn’t seem to be offended by it. Instead, she wrapped her other hand around his arm hugging close to him as she spoke.

“If you want, I’ll ask every time.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said with a wry smile. “I trust you.”

A strange look came over Gwen’s face. It was shock or disbelief, like she couldn’t believe what he’d said.

“I… thank you,” she’d finally said.

“Are you alright?” he asked, worrying that he’d upset her.

“Yes,” she said. “I… that’s not something I hear from people. The “I trust you” part, I mean. It's strange to hear.”

For the second time since he'd met her, Cullen saw that vulnerability he'd seen when he told her about the lyrium. She looked down at the ground and there was shame in her expression.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “It's just a bit embarrassing to admit that.”

She tried to smile, but it was half-hearted.

“I trust you,” Cullen repeated, looking her in the eye so she'd know he'd meant it.

She looked confused the longer he held her gaze, but her lips kept twitching like she was trying to smile or about to cry. She looked away again, and when she spoke her voice was a little rough.

“Thank you.”

Cullen could think of nothing to say except squeezed her hand. She glanced at him and smiled before heading over to Swiftfoot. Following, Cullen found himself wondering—not for the first time—about the woman he was courting. She was kind, caring, and sometimes funny, and yet he was getting the feeling that there was a deep wound there.

“Gwen,” he said, as they started to head back. “If you ever want to talk about things, I’m here.”

She nodded acknowledging she heard him, but didn’t offer a response. Instead, she gave Swiftfoot a small kick, she called back to him, smiling.

“Race you back?”

He smiled, and shook his head before kicking his horse into a canter after her. Together, they raced back to Skyhold.


	19. Wardens

The noon sun was high in the sky by the time they found Alistair and Hawke outside the old temple.

As Gwen approached Hawke and Alistair, she couldn’t help but notice the look of apprehension on their expressions.

“I’m glad you made it, Inquisitor,” Alistair said,with a relieved smile. “I fear they’ve already started the ritual.”

“I managed to sneak in for a closer look,” Hawke said, looking nervously back towards the temple. “They’re using blood magic. One of the mages seems to be from Tevinter.”

“That could be a problem,” Dorian said, looking a little uncertain.

“We have three skilled warriors, and three mages, one of which is from Tevinter himself. I think that makes us about even,” Gwen said. She was worried what they’d find.

“Let’s go,” she continued.

Hawke nodded, “You take point. I’ll guard.”

Gwen led the way, trying to ignore the overpowering smell of blood and decaying flesh. She was quite sure that, whatever they found there, there would already be a pile of bodies.

As they drew closer to the temple, Gwen watched as two Wardens faced each other. One had his back to her, but the other was pale, and very frightened. He turned around to face a man standing on a raised dias.

Gwen sped up, she was too far away to hear what the man was saying, but she could see that the other Warden was approaching him with a knife. Before she could react, he thrust the blade into into the other Warden.

As the dying Warden fell to the ground, a familiar green light filled the tower and a rage demon appeared. The man on the dias smiled.

“Good. Now bind it, just as I showed you.”

The Warden held out his hand towards the demon, not noticing that as he was binding the demon, the other man was using magic of his own. Gwen didn’t like that none of the other Wardens standing with their demons commented on the other mage. Instead, they watched the Warden join their ranks. Gwen slowed her pace, seeing little point in a rescue now.

Instead, she turned her attention to the man.

Her only experience thus far with Tivinters was Dorian, whom she liked, and Alexisus and his son, whom she felt a sort of luke-warm pity towards. This man, however, held none of the charm of the former, nor the sort of bittersweet regret she ended up feeling for the Alexius family. His robes were fashionable, but didn’t quite suit him, and his greasy hair made him look more sallow than stylish. Combined with the air of cockiness he displayed as he strutted towards her, made for a wholly unappetizing look.

“Inquisitor,” he mocked with an extravagant bow. “What an unexpected pleasure. Lord Livius Erimond of Vyrantium, at your service.”

When he straightened himself he he was sneering.

 _An overstuffed griffin, this one,_ Gwen thought as she looked at him. He was cocky, and Gwen found herself looking to the edges of the tower. There were several mages with demons beside them, and the pile of bodies she’d feared.

Alistair stepped forward from beside her, “You are no Warden.”

“But you are,” Erimond sighed. “The one Clarel let slip. And you found the Inquisitor, and have come to stop me. Shall we see how that goes?”

Even though she had a feeling it was pointless, Gwen called out  to the Wardens.

“He’s deceiving you! He serves an ancient Tevinter Magister who wants to start the next blight.”

The Wardens made no move.

“That’s a very serious accusation,” Erimond mocked. “Let’s see what the Wardens think.”

He turned to the assembled Wardens, “Wardens, hands up.”

Every Warden raised their hands.

“Hands down.”

The Wardens lowered their arms. A sickening sensation crept through Gwen’s stomach.

“Corypheus has taken their minds,” Alistair whispered beside her.

“Oh no, they did this to themselves,” Erimond said, clearly enjoying every moment of this. “You see, the Calling had the Wardens terrified. They looked _everywhere_ for help.”

“Even Tevinter,” Alistair said flatly.

“Yes,” Erimond said. “Even Tevinter. And since it was _my Master_ who put the Calling into their little heads in the first place, we in the Venatori were prepared. It didn’t take long to convince Clarel that the best solution was to raise a demon army, and kill the Old Gods before they awoke.”

Erimond laughed.

“Sadly for the Wardens, the binding ritual I taught their mages has a side effect,” he said. “They’re now my Master’s slaves. This was just a test. Once the rest of the Wardens complete the ritual, our army will conquer Thedas.”

“So, Corypheus’ influence over the Wardens made them do this ritual?” Gwen asked, playing for more time.

“Made them?” Erimond sinckered. “No. This is _their_ doing. Fear is a very good motivator, and they were very afraid.”

Her jaw tightened as Erimond paced, pleased with himself.

“You should’ve seen Clarel agonize over the decision,” Erimond continued. “Burdens of command, I suppose.”

“Why would Clarel risk using demons?” Gwen asked, trying to ignore the anger boiling up in her stomach.

“Demons need no food, no rest, no healing,” Erimond explained. “Once bound, they’ll never retreat, never question orders. They are the perfect army to fight through the Deep Roads. Or across Orlais, now that they are bound to my master.”

“Do you really want to see the world fall to the Blight?” she asked. “What do you get out of this?”

“The Elder One commands the Blight,” he said. “He is not commanded _by_ it, like the mindless darkspawn. The Blight is not unstoppable or uncontrollable. It is simply a tool.”

“No, Livius,” Dorian said beside her. “ _You’re_ the tool.”

Despite herself, Gwen smirked. Erimond, however, completely missed the sarcasm in Dorian’s voice.

“As for me: while the Elder One rules form the Golden City, we, the Venatori, will be his God-Kings here in the world.”

“Release the Wardens from the binding spell. I won’t ask twice,” Gwen said.

“No,” Erimond agreed. “You won’t.”

He raised his hand and the next second Gwen felt her arm burn with excruciating pain. Her legs gave out beneath her, and she had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. She held her wrist, trying to keep it from moving as Erimond tried to pull to mark from her.

“You stole that from my Master,” Erimond said, his voice breaking through the fog. “He’s been forced to seek other ways to access the Fade. But now I will take it _back._ ”

 _Get up!_ She told herself. _You can’t let him win._

She forced herself to focus on her anger, the rage building up in her chest. She thought about the smug look on Erimonds face as he made the Warden’s raise their hands, how it reminded her of her father, and the rage blocked out the pain. She stood up, ignoring Alistair’s and Dorian’s helping hands and looked at Erimond.

He snarled at her and kept pulling at the mark.

“When I bring him your head, his gratitude will be-”

He cried out in surprise as Gwen yanked her arm back, breaking the connection Erimond had established. The tower exploded with green light, and when it cleared, Erimond was on the ground.

He took one look at her as he got up.

“Kill them!” He shouted, turning to run.

Wardens and demons charged towards her. Gwen raised her hand in the air and opened a rift. Most of the demons were sucked into the Fade, but the rest were quickly dealt with by Alistair, the Iron Bull, and Cassandra.

When the tower was cleared though...

“He’s gone,” Hawke said.

“Yes,” Alistair said. “It seems you were correct; through their ritual, the mages are slaves to Corypheus.”

“And the Warden warriors?” Hawke asked.

Gwen stayed silent.

“Of course,” she said sadly. “Sacrificed in the ritual. What a waste.”

“Human sacrifice, demon summoning,” Gwen asked. “Who looks at this and thinks it’s a good idea?”

She couldn’t understand it. Why would _anyone_ give up their freedom? Hadn’t they noticed what was being done to their friends? And how could Clarel ask that of her people?

“The fearful and the foolish, Inquisitor,” Hawke said. “It will make anyone go against their better judgment.”

“The Wardens were wrong, Hawke,” Alistair said. “But they had their reasons.”

 _What reasons? What could possibly justify this?_ Gwen thought. She looked to Hawke, wondering if she was going to say anything, but she folded her arms angrily.

“All blood mages do,” she said. “Everyone has a story they tell themselves to justify bad decisions… and it never matters. In the end you are always alone with your actions.”

“You maybe right,” Alistair said. “But it’s beyond mattering, now. I believe I know where the Wardens are, your Worship. Erimond fled north. There’s an abandoned Warden fortress that way. Adamant.”

“Good thinking,” Gwen said. They could capture the Tevinter there.

“Alistair and I will scout out Adamant and confirm that the other Wardens are there,” Hawke said. “We’ll meet you back at Skyhold.”

“Alright,” Gwen said. “Take care; we’ll need you both when we make our move against the Wardens.”

“Of course, Inquisitor,” Hawke said. “We’ll see you soon.”

As soon as they were gone, Gwen started to loot through what remained of the Wardens. She didn't find much, just a few coins and a bottle of wine. She was about to head out of the tower, when she saw Cassandra standing beside her.

“I don’t think any Wardens are going to rise up from the dead, Cassandra,” Gwen said.

“Amusing as ever, Inquisitor,” she replied. “I just wanted to let you know Leliana sent me a message saying she has located them. I’m hoping we can act on her information next.”

Gwen didn’t respond right away. She was still struggling to keep her anger in control, and didn't want to deal with anyone's problems. However, this was important, both to her friend, and to Thedas.

“Of course,” she said. “We’ll have to stop at Skyhold for supplies, but after, we’ll look for the Seekers.”

There was no mistaking the relief in Cassandra’s expression. She’d clearly thought that Gwen was going to say no, in light of the current situation.

“Thank you,” she said. “With this new information about the Wardens, I’m even more worried for the Seekers.”

“I understand,” Gwen said, placing a comforting hand on Cassandra. “We’ll try to help them, I promise.”

Cassandra clutched her hand, and it was only then that Gwen realized she was shaking. She wasn’t sure if it was from anger, or pain, but as she slipped away her hand she gave it a little shake.

“Sorry,” she said. “Hand still hurts a bit.”

“Perhaps we should head back to one of the camps, let you rest,” Dorian said worriedly.

“I want to reach that other camp Harding marked down and close that rift,” Gwen replied pointing south-east, to another rift in the distance. “I want to be as secure here as we can be before heading back to Skyhold.”

The other three nodded and they set out from the temple shortly. Gwen didn’t look at any of them. She didn’t want them to see how angry she really was about the whole affair. Nothing could be done except to return to Skyhold, and plan for an attack.

 

* * *

 

 

As Gwen drew close to the gates of Skyhold, she heard the horn blast announcing her return. When she’d heard it the first time the noise had alarmed her, but now it was like Skyhold welcoming them home.

They’d crossed through the gates, Gwen just off of Swiftfoot and about to lead her to the stables, when Dorian tapped Gwen on the shoulder. He gave her a smile and pointed farther into the courtyard.

“I think someone wants to see you,” he said.

Turning, she saw that Cullen was standing in the courtyard. When he saw her looking his way, he gave one of his shy smiles. Try as she might, Gwen couldn’t hold back an answering one. Dorian nudged her.

“Go, I’ll see that Swiftfoot is taken care of.”

She gave him a grateful smile before she made her way over to Cullen. It was hard not dash over to him. She wanted to feel his arms around her, holding her tightly, but she forced herself to walk calmly and composedly over to him.

At least until she was only a few feet away from him, and then threw herself in his arms.

As soon as she felt Cullen hug her back, the fears she’d been feeling since seeing the ritual at the Warden’s tower melted away.

When they pulled apart, Cullen gave her another small smile, and reached up to brush a strand of hair out of her eyes. She smiled back at him.

“It’s good to see you,” he said.

“You too,” she replied. “Any chance I can steal you away from work?”

“Not at the moment,” he said, clearly disappointed. “Leliana and Josephine want to talk about the assault on Adamant, and I can’t disagree with them.”

Gwen grimaced, images of possessed Wardens still in her fresh in her mind.

“Right,” she said. “I guess that means I'm out of luck for a hot bath.”

“You can take one later tonight,” Cullen pointed out, leading her towards the Great Hall. “But we have to act quickly if we want to stop Corypheus from using that demon army.”

Gwen nodded in agreement, but said nothing more.

“I was also hoping to discuss some preparations for the armies; I need you to sign off on some paperwork,” he continued.

“Well, at least we’ll get a few moments alone,” she said in resignation.

The meeting was long, mainly because all four of them were casting about ideas as to the best way to infiltrate Adamant. The problem wasn’t strategy; Cullen’s experience as a Commander shone through. The resources available to them simply weren’t meeting their needs. The Inquisition wasn’t the joke it had been when this whole affair began, but they didn’t have the access to war machines that they needed.

“There are nobles who could be persuaded to donate their trebuchets,” Josephine said. “While you’re helping Cassandra, I will appeal to their better natures.”

“With threats, if necessary,” Leliana added.

Josephine frowned, but didn’t comment. She was still angry with Leliana about the assassin’s guild. Gwen wished she would talk to Leliana about it, but so far, Josephine had let things lie. Gwen suspected she wanted to just keep the peace between the advisors, and therefore, had decided not to interfere more than she already had.

“Reach out to the nobles,” Gwen said with a smile. “When I return we’ll go over the final plan based on what we have.”

With the meeting concluded, Gwen gathered up her own paperwork, and headed out of the War Room, Cullen close behind her. As they walked together towards Cullen’s office, he reached out and took her hand, gave it a squeeze. She smiled at him, and as they approached the bridge she wrapped her arm around his, leaning into his shoulder.

“Sometimes,” she said. “I wish I could take some time off so I could spend more time with you.”

“We have a few more hours together,” he said. “And there’s tomorrow.”

“I know,” Gwen said. “But it always feels too short.”

When they stepped into his office, Cullen stopped and tilted her head up to face him.

“Then I suppose I should kiss you while I can,” he said, and leaned in.

Gwen closed her eyes as he pressed his lips against hers, cupping his face in her hands. Cullen’s right hand slid down her waist and Gwen sucked in a breath of air at his touch, her body tingling. When they parted, she smiled at him.

“Weren’t we supposed to be signing paperwork?” Gwen said.

“Were we?” Cullen replied. “I must have forgotten.”

She laughed and leaned up to give him one more kiss before heading over to his desk.

They spent the next hour going over the paperwork, signing off on troops and supply preparations. As they did, Gwen found her thoughts being filled more and more with the images of the possessed Wardens. Cullen hadn’t brought them up once unless it had to do with work, and finally, Gwen brought them up herself.

“I still can’t believe that the Warden’s are doing this,” she said. “You’d think after knowing what the spell requires should’ve dissuaded Clarel.”

“It’s disheartening,” Cullen agreed, looking down at his desk. “First the Templars, now the Grey Wardens. Both devoted their lives to fighting evil. Now they serve it.”

“Perhaps some of Grey Wardens can be saved,” Gwen replied. “If Corypheus’ hold on them is broken, they can perhaps redeem themselves.”

“You think they should have no consequences for their actions?” he said, a bit incredulously.

“They're frightened and they made what seemed to be the best choice they had. Have you never made a decision based on fear and then come to regret it? I don't believe in punishing someone because they were afraid." she replied.

A dark, familiar look crossed Cullen's expression.

“Yes,” he replied. “But that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t take responsibility for it. Their magic is causing harm to others.”

“The mages will pay for it,” Gwen said. “But what about the soldiers who are going along with it, despite what they may think about the ritual? Have you not considered that if more had said no, like Alistair, the mages might never had done this?”

Cullen didn’t answer, and Gwen had a feeling she knew why. They were dancing around a subject that had previously been a point of contention between them. Yet more and more it was bringing up something that she’d been wondering about.

“Cullen, if I were possessed by a demon, would you-”

“Please, don’t ask me this,” Cullen interrupted, his face had gone white.

“I... think I know the answer,” Gwen replied, looking away from him.

“I don’t think you do,” he said, his voice a tense whisper.

“It’s not that simple,” he continued, avoiding her gaze. “And I… I would rather not think of it.”

Silence fell between them, as Gwen looked down at the desk.

Cullen's distress confused her, and she didn't know how to respond to his wish to not address the subject. She'd thought since he was a templar and she a mage, they could address the subject without much contention as they both knew it was a reality she faced. Clearly, this conclusion was wrong.

But why? Why was this so upsetting to him? Was it because he knew what he would do, or was it something else?

“Cullen,” she said carefully. “I just wanted to know your answer. Magic complicates things; it can change how a person sees you. And we can’t pretend like I’m safe from possession.”

“No person is safe from possession, I’ve come to realize. However... That doesn’t mean I want to think about it, Gwen,” Cullen said. “You’re… The thought… I don’t want to see you that way. And you wouldn’t abuse magic like that.”

“You can’t know that,” Gwen said. “I’d like to think that too, but if things got desperate-”

“You’re not Clarel, Gwen,” Cullen replied. “You’d never do that.”

He was terrified, she realized. Gwen forced herself to take a deep breath. 

“I’m not perfect, Cullen,” she said carefully,. “I’m strong, because I’ve had to be. It’s how I’ve survived, but I’m not going to pretend that I’m not just as vulnerable as the next mage.”

Gathering her paperwork up, Gwen looked at Cullen and saw that he hadn’t moved, his expression was like stone. Only when she reached out and touch him, did his expression change to one of concern. She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

“I think we’re tired,” she said. “We should just get some rest.”

He nodded and took hold of her hand, holding it tightly.

“You’re not weak, Gwen,” he said, almost desperately.

She gently squeezed his hand back, trying to reassure him as she said, “I know. Try to get some rest.”

With that, she headed out into the open night sky.

 

* * *

 

 

Cullen didn’t sleep well that night. His dreams were filled with images of possessed friends and Amell, and a looming shadow behind Gwen. It drew closer and closer Cullen watching helplessly behind his magic cage, until suddenly it grabbed hold of Gwen. She screamed and tried to fight, and Cullen tried to draw on his own powers to break the cage when the shadow suddenly twisted her neck, and Gwen fell to the ground, her eyes staring blankly at him.

“No!” he screamed, banging his fists on the cage. He looked at the shadow, ready to rage at it when he saw it was Amell. Cold dread began to fill his chest as the possessed Amell stepped closer and closer to him. She smiled cruelly and opened her mouth to speak-

“Cullen!”

Cullen woke abruptly to find his head lying on his desk, his heart pounding, and Dorian standing over him.

“Bad dream?” Dorian asked, a worried smile across his face.

Cullen quickly sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“The morning bell just rung, so not that late,” Dorian replied. “You’d asked me to work with your soldiers on techniques for fighting Venatori, remember?”

He did remember now, and muttered a curse.

“Give me moment and I’ll walk down to the training grounds with you,” Cullen said heading over to the ladder leading up to his room. Dorian nodded in acknowledgement just as Cullen started climbing the ladder.

As soon as he was in his room, Cullen took out the simple mirror he used to shave with and checked his appearance. His hair was a mess and he needed to shave. He pulled out his grooming kit and worked as quickly as he could to make himself presentable.

“Do you always sleep on your desk?” Dorian called up to him.

“No,” Cullen replied with a wisp of a sigh. “I just was working late last night.”

“Clearly,” Dorian said sarcastically. “You know that’s not good for keeping up appearances, right? What if I’d been a guard and you had an ink stain on your face? Or worse, what if Sera came in here?”

“You’re implying I had any say in my sleeping situation last night, Dorian,” Cullen said as he finished shaving his face. He took a few moments to get his hair under control—there was a little more of a curl to it than usual—but he didn’t have time to do more now. He straightened his clothes out as best he could and slid back down the ladder.

“Much better,” Dorian said with approval. “I’m sure Gwen won’t notice that you didn’t take her advice last night.”

“You spoke with her?” Cullen asked, his thoughts traveling back to their conversation. “Is she doing alright?”

Dorian looked at him in surprise.

“I was going to ask you the same,” he said. “Her hand’s been bothering her since Erimond tried to take the mark from her.”

“What?!” Cullen said, his voice rising.

Dorian frowned.

“Didn’t she say anything in the reports?”

“No,” Cullen said, trying not to raise his voice again.

Dorian folded his arms uncomfortably, “Well, I guess you know now. She hasn’t been complaining about it, but she usually doesn’t say much when she’s hurt.”

Cullen’s thoughts were still reeling from the information. He resisted the urge to run his hand through his hair and instead headed for the doorway leading to the training grounds.

“Why didn’t she say anything?” he asked as he and Dorian walked together.

Dorian only shrugged.

“You know Gwen;” he said. “She clams up if you try to talk with her about anything personal. She might have thought it wasn’t important.”

“It is important,” Cullen insisted. “What if it had been something worse? What if-”

Dorian stopped Cullen with a hand blocking his path, making eye contact with him.

“Cullen, look,” he said calmly. “She’s fine. And quite honestly, I think it’s more likely she didn’t say anything, because she doesn’t want to think about the mark.”

“What do you mean?” Cullen asked, even more worried. Dorian pressed his lips together for a moment before answering.

“You’re not an idiot, Cullen,” he said. “Surely you must know that mark is still dangerous. Power like that is not easy to contain unless you’re an exceptional mage. She's worried that the mark might hurt her again.”

“Solas said it was contained,” he replied, trying to ignore the panic he felt within his chest.

“And it still worries her,” Dorian replied. “It worries me too if I’m being honest. It should worry any sane mage. I don’t blame her for not wanting to talk about it.”

Cullen made no response, knowing that he’d just get more upset. He was tired after staying up so late and then the nightmares....

Dorian continued to speak, though.

“Cullen, she’s fine,” he assured. “Perhaps talk to her if you can, but I honestly think she simply didn’t want to make a fuss.”

Cullen barely managed nod before turning to head to the training grounds.

A short while later, Cullen stood at the edge of the training grounds, watching Gwen as she sparred with Iron Bull. He hadn’t forgotten what Dorian had told him, but dwelling on it when Gwen seemed to have it under control would do no one any good.

He’d decided to let the soldiers have a break before loosing Dorian on them. Fighting a Tevinter mage, was nothing like fighting a southern one. He was hoping to get a chance to talk with Gwen, either before or after, but he was equally enjoying watching her fight.

Her training for being a Knight Enchanter was going well, though Cullen could tell she already had some experience with a sword. Perhaps her brother had taught her how to handle one. She certainly was a graceful fighter, not to mention that he liked how sweat made her eyes even brighter.

“Cullen, have a little dignity– at least try to hide your thoughts!” Dorian laughed, coming up behind him.

Cullen flushed but said nothing, and continued to watch Gwen as she egged Bull on with a teasing grin. Not one to turn down a challenge, Bull charged after her. Gwen dodged him on his blind side and managed to smack him hard.

Her moment of triumph was short lived however, as Bull nearly managed to strike her from behind and it was only by rolling out of the way that she missed getting hit.

“She’s alright Cullen,” Dorian said, noting Cullen’s quick inhale.

“I know,” Cullen muttered.

They continued to watch a little longer as Gwen practiced with  the Iron Bull. After a minute, Cullen notice Dorian was watching the Iron Bull nearly as much as he himself was watching Gwen. Bull must have noticed it too, for he paused a moment to flex at Dorian.

Dorian scowled in return.

Bull smiled at Dorian until Gwen came up and smacked him with the blunt end of the sword in reprimand, a teasing smile on her face. The Iron Bull spun about and began chasing her, when Cassandra suddenly joined in the game as well, and the three of them ran an elaborate game of tag like school children. Despite himself, Cullen laughed. After their conversation last night, he was glad to see that she at least appeared to be in a better mood. He wasn’t completely sure what had made her so upset, other than it probably had to do with the Wardens and his inability to answer her question.

He grimaced at the memory, partly because it was becoming more clear that he needed to talk to Gwen about his own history.

“We probably should start training with the soldiers, Cullen,” Dorian said, cutting into his own thoughts. “You can’t sit and watch Gwen all day.”

Cullen scowled at Dorian, but had to agree. He turned and called back to the soldiers, gathering them around Dorian. With his help, Dorian showed a few stances that would help the soldiers get closer in to a mage and stop them from casting some of their spells. When Dorian began to work with the soldiers, Cullen stepped away, leaving one of his lieutenants to watch.

He headed back over to where Gwen had been training, and saw that she was taking a break.To his relief, she smiled at him as she approached.

“Hello,” she said. She grabbed an apple from a bowl of fruit that had been left out for passers by. “How are you?”

“I’m alright,” he said. “I wanted to see how you were doing. Last night, you seemed upset.”

Gwen hesitated cutting her apple for a fraction of a second, before she returned to carving.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I was just tired.”

“Gwen, what you saw was troubling, it’s alright to admit that,” he said.

“Alright, yes, I was upset,” she said. “What does that change? I—Flames!”

Her knife had slipped, cutting her thumb. Without thought, Cullen grabbed a linen cloth that had been left beside the basket, and wrapped Gwen’s thumb up in it. It was only after he’d acted that he realized how ridiculous it was that he was trying to stop her bleeding. Feeling his cheeks heat up, he looked up at Gwen, who had a bemused smile on her face.

“You do realize I can heal that myself, right?” she asked.

“I—of course. Right, I...”

He let go of her hand and looked away, embarrassed as Gwen removed the linen cloth and her hand glowed with a healing green light.

She looked up at him, still smiling as she said, “It was adorable.”

He smiled shyly at her, still feeling a little embarrassed for overreacting. She smiled, and leaned up, kissing him gently on the lips. He kissed her back, glad that things were easier between them.

When they pulled apart he smiled at her in return.

“I’m glad to see you smiling again,” he said.

Her own smile faltered a little, and Cullen wanted to kick himself. As much as he wanted to talk to her about last night, he didn’t want to make her upset again either.

“Cullen, it’s not the ritual it’s…” she hesitated for a moment, her jaw tightening. She took a deep breath and continued.

“I might have stayed with the Inquisition at first because I had nowhere else to go, but I remained because after recruiting the mages I realized I could change things,” she said. “But for every one good thing I do, there’s always another mage getting possessed or doing some dark form of magic. It’s frustrating.”

She looked away from him, her jaw tightening. He sympathized with her. It was the same feeling he got every time he heard of some new atrocity the Templars had committed.

“Gwen,” Cullen said, taking her hand in his. “You’re making a difference. Even I know that things can’t go back to the way they were.”

She didn’t look comforted, and her hand hung limply in his.

“Maybe, but is it enough to stop them from putting us in cages?” she asked. “I wake up every day fearing that someone is going to tell me that when this is over, I’ll have to go back to the circle, and I can’t stop them.”

“If that happened, I think Dorian would smuggle you back to Tevinter, and I’m not sure I’d stop him,” he said. His comment made her laugh and her shoulders seemed to relax.

“You’re right, I was—am upset about the Wardens,” she said. “And what you said last night just seemed to point out that I wasn’t changing anything. And I just wanted to know if you’d let me go…”

She didn’t finish what she was saying, but looked away from him. He wanted to kick himself. He hadn’t thought about what he said last night, but clearly his comments about the Wardens had affected her.

“Gwen, whatever or whoever it is that you’re afraid of, I won’t let them hurt you,” he said, hoping she believed him. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t think what I said last night would upset you.”

“I was being an ass too,” she said, and her smile returned. “Maybe that’s why I like you.”

He laughed at her, and gently pulled her closer to him. To his surprise, she leaned into him. He held her close, not even caring that she was covered in sweat.

“You’re making a difference, Gwen,” he said. “The Wardens won’t change that.”

She didn’t move for a long while, and Cullen was starting to worry that something was wrong when she spoke.

“Do you want to play a game of chess tonight?”

He smiled ruefully.

“I have a meeting tonight, but I can slip away for dinner.”

She straightened up as she said, “I’ll come by your office by the evening bell, then.”


	20. Seeker's Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special announcement: I've decided to release at least one other chapter this month. The next chapter will be released on the 18th and if any others are released it will be in the last few weeks of July.

Gwen stood over the dead body of Lord Seeker Lucius, looking at his empty eyes. She’d met a lot of crazy people along the way, but it was always different when her enemies hurt her friends.

Her gaze fell on Cassandra kneeling beside Lord Lucius’ body, as she picked up the tome he’d brandished at them.

“You’re going to take it?” Gwen asked.

“I’m… not sure,” Cassandra said. “But who better than me? Do you see any other Seekers?”

“No,” Gwen admitted. “I just thought—Nevermind.”

They made their way through the fort, wanting to get away from the stench of the place. It was only when they started to make their way down the dark corridor and approaching Daniel’s dead body, that Cassandra stopped her.

“Daniel’s body. I’d like to put him to rest.”

Gwen turned back and examined Cassandra. Her friend was pressing her lips together, like she was trying to hold back tears. It now occurred to Gwen that she’d never seen Cassandra cry.

“You’re right,” Gwen said with a nod. “We shouldn’t leave him like the others.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor,” Cassandra said.

Gwen turned to the Iron Bull and asked, “Will you carry him?”

Bull gave Daniel’s body a suspicious look.

“I don’t know Boss,” Bull said. “That guy had a demon possessing him.”

“I doubt it stayed after Daniel died,” Gwen said, walking over to his body. She used force magic. Nothing happened.

Cassandra scowled at Gwen, but spoke to Bull.

“If the demon was still there, it would’ve attacked,” she said. “I think you’re safe.”

“Alright,” Bull said. “But just in case-”

“Just get on with it,” Cassandra said.

Reluctantly, the Iron Bull carried Daniels body away so they could prepare it the body for the funerary ritesburning. They took his body outside the castle; it didn’t seem right to any of them to leave him in such a dark place. While the Iron Bull and Cassandra built the pyre, Dorian and Gwen did their best to clean and prepare Daniel’s body.

As they did, Gwen couldn’t help but think back on when they found him. Cassandra had rushed to the younger man’s side, calling out his name.

_“Daniel. Daniel!”_

Daniel hadn’t moved until Cassandra had knelt down beside him.

 _“Can you hear me?”_ Cassandra asked in a much gentler tone than Gwen had heard from her before.

 _“Cassandra?”_ Daniel said, looking up at Cassandra. _“It is you. You’re alive!”_

 _“As are you,”_ Cassandra replied. _“I’m so glad I found you.”_

Gwen remembered pressing her lips together. She hadn’t needed to use healing magic to know there was something terribly wrong. Red veins crawled across his skin, contrasting his pale skin and sunken eyes. Daniel seemed to know this too, as his eyes filled with panic.

 _“No!”_ he’d protested weakly. _“T-they put a demon… inside me. It’s… tearing me up.”_

Cassandra had shook her head in disbelief.

_“What? You can’t be possessed—that’s impossible.”_

Gwen had thought so too, but as she had looked at the young man, she’d wondered if that was true.

 _“I’m not possessed,”_ Daniel had explained. _“They… fed me things. I can feel it growing!”_

Daniel’s eyes filled with pain, and for a brief moment, Gwen wanted to help him. The only question was how?

 _“Is there anything we can do?”_ she asked Cassandra, hoping that the Seeker might know something she didn’t. However, Cassandra hadn’t looked certain either.

 _“I… don’t know,”_ she’d said uncertainly. _“This thing inside him… You’re the healer here. What can you do?”_

 _“I’m no spirit healer, Cassandra,”_ Gwen replied. _“I can fix wounds, broken bones, bruises, and cure most illnesses, but this is beyond my skills.”_

It had been hard to watch the disappointment in Cassandra’s eyes, but Daniel had distracted them.

 _“Never mind me,”_ he said weakly. _“You have to find the Lord Seeker.”_

 _“Of course we’ll find him,”_ Cassandra said comfortingly. _“If he lives, we’ll-”_

 _“No,”_ Daniel said, and his expression became harsh. _“Lucius betrayed us, Cassandra. He sent us here. One by one. ‘An important mission’ he said.”_

Gwen had felt her heart sink. She hadn’t needed Daniel to continue on to know what was coming.

 _“It was lies!”_ Daniel growled out. _“He was here all along. He’s still working with them.”_

Gwen had closed her eyes, wishing that things had turned out differently. As her thoughts had traveled back to the first time she’d met the Lord Seeker, though, she knew that Daniel was speaking the truth. When she’d looked at Cassandra, she could see that she knew it to be true as well.

 _“Cassandra…”_ Gwen had said, knowing there was nothing to sooth the pain.

 _“Now is not the time for sympathy,”_ she’d said.

Gwen had nodded, and had started to stand up, but Daniel had grabbed hold of them desperately as he said, _“Wait! Don’t leave me like this, please…”_

Gwen’s heart had gone out to the young Seeker. She knew his death was only going to be a slow painful one. When Cassandra had looked at her with one last plea in her eyes, Gwen had shaken her head.

There was no point in carrying on his pain.

Cassandra looked back at her friend, barely hiding how much this was hurting her.

 _“You should’ve come with me,”_ she said sadly. _“You didn’t believe in the war any more than I did.”_

 _“You know me,”_ Daniel joked. _“I wanted that promotion.”_

He coughed painfully, blood spilling out of his mouth. Gwen had to resist the urge to take her knife and kill the man herself, but this had to be done by Cassandra. He was her friend after all.

Cassandra had said a few comforting words before she thrust her blade up into Daniel, ending his suffering. When she stood, the only hint that she was crying was a sniff and her wiping her sleeve across her eyes.

Now Gwen was kneeling beside Daniel, trying to prepare him for the pyre. Dorian was wrapping him in some linen cloth they’d found in the castle for a shroud, while Gwen did her best to clean his face.

“Can you do anything about those veins, Gwen?” Dorian asked. “I just think it would be better if we weren’t reminded of what was done to him.”

“I don’t know,” Gwen said. “This may require a spirit healer, which I’m not.”

She placed a hand on Daniel’s chest, trying to find the source. The demon was gone, but even with it gone, she could only made the red veins vanish slightly.

“I’m sorry,” Gwen said, as Cassandra came back over. “I’m afraid in this instance, my healing skills are limited.”

“I thank you for trying,” Cassandra said, and when Gwen looked at her, she could tell by her attempt of a smile that she meant it.

“Let’s put him to rest,” Gwen said, standing up.

Bull lifted Daniel’s lifeless body into his arms and carried him over to the Pyre. He gently laid Daniel down, and Cassandra pulled the linen cloth over his face. She kissed him, tears in her eyes. Gwen wondered if Cassandra felt like she was losing her brother all over again. She watched as Cassandra walked over to a fire she and the Iron Bull had built, and lit a torch.

Cassandra held it up to the pyre until it had caught fire. They all stood back, watching as the pyre burned.

“I feel like I should sing the hymns for him,” Cassandra said. “But I don’t have Leliana’s voice.”

“I can try,” Gwen said. “If you’re alright with that.”

Cassandra hesitated for a moment then nodded. Gwen took a deep breath and started to sing.

 

“You have grieved as I have.

You, who made worlds out of nothing.

We are alike in sorrow, sculptor and clay,

Comforting each other in our art.

 

Do not grieve for me, Maker of All.

Though all others may forget You,

Your name is etched into my every step.

I will not forsake You, even if I forget myself.

 

Maker though the darkness comes upon me,

I shall embrace the Light. I shall weather the storm.

I shall endure.

What You have created, no one can tear asunder.”

 

Cassandra said. “Thank you, for doing that for him.”

“Of course,” Gwen said. She walked over to Cassandra and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you ready to go back to Skyhold?”

Cassandra tried to smile, but struggled to make it more than a grimace. Gwen squeezed her shoulder, but Cassandra just looked down at the ground.

“I’d hoped… but I suppose it was foolish,” Cassandra said.

“I understand, Cass,” she said. “Much better than you know.”

Cassandra nodded, but made no response. Her eyes fell on the book she held in her hands. Gwen realized that for the moment there was little she could do. She’d have to let Cassandra grieve on her own time.

 

* * *

 

 

On their way back to Skyhold, Cassandra said very little about what had occurred with the Seekers. Instead, she spent her time pouring over the book that they had taken off of Seeker Lucius. Gwen had let her be, hoping that by giving her space, she could come to terms with what had become of the Seekers.

Now they were back at Skyhold, and Cassandra had disappeared to her room.

It was a day after their return, and Gwen stared at the smithy’s building, wondering at Cassandra’s choice to reside here. She supposed it was part of being a Templar or a Seeker to sleep in rooms that offered little comfort. She walked into the smithy, only pausing to give the men working in there a brief wave as they bowed to her, before heading up the stairs.

Cassandra was sitting at her table, looking down at the closed Seeker book in front of her.

“Hello,” Gwen said cautiously.

Cassandra looked up, her expression weary. For a moment Gwen wondered if she was even really seeing her when she started to speak.

“This tome has passed from Lord Seeker to Lord Seeker, since the time of the old Inquisition,” she said. “And now it falls to me.”

“Are you alright?” Gwen asked. “You look drained.”

Cassandra briefly looked down at the book, before she looked back up at Gwen and said, “On the contrary, it’s a delight. I’m riveted.”

It wasn’t until a hint of a smile crossed Cassandra’s face that Gwen realized she was actually trying to make a joke.

“Oh, you’re joking,” Gwen replied as she slid into the seat across from her. Cassandra’s smile grew a little, but faltered as she looked back down at the book.

“I’m sure you know what the rite of Tranquility is,” she said. “It’s the last resort used on mages in the circle. It leaves them unable to cast, but it also deprives them of all feelings and emotions.”

Gwen nodded in response her lips pressing together, holding back the slight twinge of anger in her chest. She knew very well what the ritual did. It had been done to a few of her friends. She’d gone to bed, knowing who they were, and woken up to find them a shell of their former selves.

Cassandra seemed to pick up on her anger and holding up her hand, she spoke quickly.

“It should only be used on those who cannot control their abilities, but… that has not always been the case.”

If Cassandra was hoping for a softer response from Gwen, she was very mistaken. Gwen liked Cassandra, but she couldn’t ignore what had been done to her kind in the name of the Maker.

“You mutilate mages,” Gwen said, not bothering to hold back the bile in her voice. Cassandra looked down at the table again.

“I’ve always thought it was a necessary evil,” she said defensively.

“It would be better to kill them then make a shell of their former selves,” Gwen replied, refusing to let her off the hook that easily. “You don’t just hurt them, but their friends or any loved ones they had.”

“I understand,” Cassandra replied. “Do you know what began the mage rebellion?”

“Not exactly,” Gwen said. “There seemed to be several factors in play.”

“It was because there was a discovery that the Rite of Tranquility could be reversed,” she said. “The Lord Seeker covered it up—harshly. There were deaths.”

It took Gwen a moment to process what Cassandra was saying. She was shocked. Her mind suddenly filled with thoughts of mages being restored to their former selves, when Cassandra started speaking again.

“It was dangerous knowledge,” she said. “The shock of it’s discovery in addition to what happened in Kirkwall…”

She hesitated again, and Gwen felt her throat tighten. She had a feeling she knew what was coming.

“It… appears we’ve always known how to reverse the rite. From the beginning.”

Silence hung in the air between them. Cassandra seemed to be waiting for her to lash out, and Gwen couldn’t deny that she was angry. However, she knew her anger would do little to resolve the situation.

“You’re saying the rebellion could’ve been prevented,” Gwen said, not sure if she believed that it could. A part of her had wished that there could’ve been a more peaceful solution, but even she knew that the deep anger she’d felt inside herself was threatening to burst.

“Perhaps,” Cassandra replied. “But I think we both know it was a long time coming, for many reasons.”

For some reason, Cassandra’s admittance that there was little that could’ve stopped the rebellion soothed Gwen’s anger. Perhaps it was because Cassandra wasn’t denying the wrongs that had been done. She was still angry, but her anger was no longer focused on Cassandra.

Cassandra, on the other hand, didn’t look like she was comforted at all. She looked down at her hands, rubbing them together as she continued to speak.

“We created the Rite of Tranquility,” she said flatly. “To become a Seeker, I spent months in a vigil, emptying myself of all emotion. I was made Tranquil, and didn’t even know it.”

“How was it broken?” Gwen asked, a twinge of remorse filling her.  

“At the end of the vigil, a spirit of Faith was summoned and it touched my mind,” Cassandra explained. “That broke Tranquility, and gave me my abilities.”

Gwen was about to ask if the same could be done for mages, but Cassandra’s calm composure suddenly seemed to break and she pressed on.

“The Seekers didn’t share that secret,” she said harshly. “Not with me, not with the Chantry. Not even with-”

She stopped abruptly, standing up, facing away from Gwen. Her hands clenched into fists for a moment before relaxing. Gwen watched as she walked over to the small window in her room, looking out into the mountain pass.

“There’s more,” she said more calmly. “Lucius was not wrong about the Order. I thought to rebuild the Seekers once victory was ours. Now, I’m not certain it deserves to be rebuilt.”

Gwen sensed that Cassandra was more asking than telling her what she really thought should be done. The heavy weight that Gwen felt like she was carrying with her almost everywhere these days, seemed to grow even heavier.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so shaken,” Gwen said gently.

“I don’t think the Seekers have been doing the Maker’s work,” Cassandra said angrily. “Not truly. Perhaps we believed it once. The original Inquisition came at a terrible time. But now?”

She turned to face Gwen as she continued on.

“Now, we harbor secrets and let them fester. We acted to survive, but not to serve. That is _not_ the Maker’s work.”

Gwen sympathized with Cassandra’s plight. She knew what it was like to have everything she believed in ripped out from under her. She could understand why Cassandra thought that the Seekers should be done away with. And yet, despite everything, Gwen wasn’t so sure.

She’d stayed with the Inquisition to change things, to make them better. However, as much as part of her wanted to be rid of Seekers and Templar’s all together, she couldn’t deny that they served a purpose. She herself had been saved by a Templar twice, two different times by two different templars. And there were people like Cassandra and Cullen who had higher hopes for the Order’s they were a part of. Just as she did for mages.

Perhaps, if enough was changed, the Orders could be saved. What mattered was how.

“If you did rebuild the Seekers, how would you do it?” Gwen asked.

“I can’t be the only one remaining,” Cassandra replied. She’d returned to looking out the small window in her room. “We were always spread to the winds, and some may still be out there. I would find them, one by one. We would all read this book—no more secrets.”

Gwen couldn’t deny that exposing the secrets of the Seekers was an improvement, but was it enough? Before she could ask though, Cassandra continued on.

“My hope would be that together we would establish a new character. The Makers work, in truth.”

“You keep saying that,” Gwen said. “But what is ‘The Maker’s work?’ That’s different depending on who you speak with.”

“There’s no way to know for certain,” she said. “That’s why we must seek it out. Perhaps we lost our way because we stopped looking.”

“And the Tranquil?” Gwen asked. She knew that Cassandra wanted to know her thoughts, but Gwen had to know that she would not forget the Tranquil like so many others had.

“We will work on a cure,” Cassandra said, looking back at Gwen briefly before returning to gazing out the window. “Mages that are made un-Tranquil have a harder time adapting. They are more emotionally unstable. It will take time, but we will search for a way to reverse the process safely.”

It was something. Gwen wasn’t sure it was enough, but by now, she had enough faith in Cassandra to know that she would do her best to see to reversing Tranquility. As for the Seekers, Gwen couldn’t say that she was certain that they should remain, but the knowledge that she didn’t have a definite answer to what the Maker’s will was, told her that if anyone could remake the Order, it was Cassandra.

“Rebuild the Seekers,” Gwen said. “Make them better than they were. That’s why we’re here, right?”

Gwen heard Cassandra sigh with relief, and her shoulders relaxed. She turned to face Gwen, smiling.

“Thank you,” she said, walking back over to her. “I couldn’t have done this on my own.”

“You underestimate yourself,” Gwen replied. “If it was anyone else, I’m not sure I would’ve agreed.”

“And yet, despite everything, you did,” Cassandra replied. “Perhaps we can set the tone for how Seeker’s, mages, and templar’s can work together.”

“Maybe,” Gwen said a little doubtfully. “It depends on who becomes Divine. Whoever she is, I’m not sure she will agree with all my choices.”

“We cannot go back to the way things were,” Cassandra said. “A mage is already proving that when chaos comes, she has stood above it. Even if the new Divine wanted to return Mages to the circle, she would be hard pressed to convince the masses that their savior must be caged.”

Gwen fidgeted a little. A part of her was put at ease knowing that she now had Dorian, Cassandra, and Cullen to look out for her, but another part of her felt like it was all a dream.

Her hand reached up and touched the scar on her forehead. She’d told Cullen that she’d received it from a templar, but it was a lie. It was a constant reminder why she couldn’t trust anything good to last.

“Are you alright, Inquisitor?” Cassandra asked.

“Yes,” Gwen said quickly. “It’s just been a long few days.”

“I agree,” Cassandra said. “I suspect you’d like to get some rest. Or perhaps, go and see a certain Commander.”

A knowing smile crossed her face, and Gwen couldn’t help but smile back.

“Perhaps,” Gwen agreed. “It depends on whether or not I can pull him away from work.”

“You’re the only one that can,” Cassandra said, leaning back in her chair. “Before you came along, he was always bent over his work. I sometimes had to kick him out to get food.”

“I find a gentler touch works best,” Gwen replied, smiling. Her thoughts fell upon Cullen and their last meeting together. Things had been more tense between them than it had been in a while, and she wondered what effect that had had on him.

Cullen seemed to be growing more confident around her, but she sensed that he still worried if she really cared for him. Gwen wasn’t sure what kind of answer she’d give him if he did ask. She cared for him, beyond a doubt, but was that enough?

“Well, if I know him, he’s been working non-stop since this morning,” Cassandra said. “I suggest you go distract him.”

Gwen smiled, standing up, but it faltered when she noticed that Cassandra still seemed a little out of sorts. Before she could ask what was wrong, however, Cassandra spoke.

“One more thing, Inquisitor,” Cassandra said. “It didn’t feel appropriate to say at the time, but your singing was lovely.”

Gwen blushed as she said, “It’s not that great, but thank you.”

“On the contrary,” Cassandra said. “I think with a little training you could be just as good as Leliana. But I should let you go, I’ve wasted enough of your time.”

“You’ll be alright?” she asked.

“Inquisitor,” Cassandra said sternly. “I’m fine. Go and see how Cullen’s doing.”

“Alright,” Gwen said, and headed for the stairs. She didn’t head for Cullen’s office right away, though.

Ever since they’d discovered what had happened to the Seekers, Gwen had hoped to talk with Varric and see if he’d finished the book for Cassandra. She felt that the book might lift her spirits after what she’d witnessed with the Seekers.

It didn’t take long to find Varric. He was sitting at his usual table working on something. When Gwen drew close, he looked up and smiled at her.

“Inquisitor!” he said, smiling at her. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing much,” Gwen replied, leaning against the table. “I was just wondering how the book was coming along.”

Smiling, Varric patted a pile of papers sitting beside him.

“All here, Sparky,” he said. “I’m sending it off to a printer I know in Orlais. I should have a copy of the book by the time we get back from Adamant.”

Gwen pursed her lips, slightly disappointed.

“I’m guessing you were hoping for it now,” Varric said.

“Yes,” Gwen replied, seeing no point in hiding it. “Things didn’t go so well with the Seekers, and I was hoping that it might cheer her up. But I guess it’ll have to wait.”

“She took it hard?” Varric asked.

“A bit,” Gwen admitted. “If the book was done, I was hoping it might cheer her up.”

“Unfortunately, I need a little more time,” Varric said. “But think of it this way, it’s a nice thing for her to come back to after a battle.”

“True,” Gwen said, smiling.

Varric gave her a searching look for a moment before he spoke.

“Are you ready for the battle?” he asked.

Gwen was surprised by the question, but answered anyways.

“I think so,” she said. “I mean, I’ve been in the middle of a war for a few years now. I won’t say that I’m not nervous, but we’re more ready than we were at Haven.”

“True,” Varric agreed. “I just want to know how you were feeling.”

She smiled at the dwarf.

“Thanks, Varric,” she said, straightening up. “We’ll talk later.”

She was about to head to Cullen’s office when he suddenly entered the Great Hall, looking around. Curious, Gwen walked over to him, wondering what had brought him here. Cullen normally avoided the Great Hall like the blight.

When his gaze fell on her, he gave her a shy smile, though she couldn’t help but notice that he looked agitated. As she approached him, his hand reached up and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hello,” she said. “I was about to come and see you.”

“Oh,” he said, his cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. “I was, coming to find you. I… wanted to talk.”

“About what?” Gwen asked.

Cullen didn’t answer right away but looked away, his gaze falling on the nobles hanging around in the hall.

“I’d rather discuss that in the office,” he said.

“Alright,” Gwen said, and she took Cullen’s arm in hers. “Nothing too troubling, I hope.”

“N-no,” Cullen said. “I just want to discuss something private with you.”

“Well,” Gwen said as they started to walk out of the Great Hall. “Now I’m really curious.”

With a wink from Varric, both she and Cullen headed out towards his office. As they walked, Gwen couldn’t help but notice that something was on his mind. She couldn’t help but feel a little bit nervous herself. This level of distraction from him was not normal and she wondered if he meant to end things between them.

Her fears were slightly put to rest, though, when a cool breeze blew across the bridge, making her shiver, Cullen pulled her close to him. The warmth from his body seemed to take away the worst of the cold.

“I have to agree with Dorian,” she said. “How do people in Ferelden stand this blighted cold?”

“It’s in our blood,” Cullen joked.

“Well you are very warm,” Gwen chuckled. Cullen smiled back at her, but it quickly melted away when they approached his office door. Without looking at her, he opened the door and headed into the office. Gwen followed him apprehensively.

He walked over to his desk, and it seemed like he leaned heavily on it.

“Gwen, there’s…” he began. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

 

 


	21. My Lion

Cullen stood at his desk, wondering where to start. While Gwen had been away he’d thought more and more about how he needed to tell her what had happened to him at Kinloch Hold. His thoughts still traveled back to her question about possession and his terrible way of handling such a question. 

He could tell that she’d been angry that he wouldn’t give her a straight answer, but he hadn’t been ready to tell her then. 

He wasn’t ready to tell her now, if he was honest with himself, but it had to be done. She had the right to know if he was going to continue to court her. 

Now, if he could just steal himself, and tell her.

“Cullen, are you alright?” Gwen asked.

“Yes,” he said, turning to face her. “It’s just… what I’m about to tell you isn’t easy for me to talk about.”

“If you don’t want to talk, it’s alright,” Gwen said. “Unless it has to do with something about the Inquisition.”

“No,” Cullen said quickly. “It doesn’t. It has to do with… how I ended up in Kirkwall and… my mistrust of mages.”

He tried to ignore the sudden need to move around, to pace the room, to do something to ease the tension that was building up inside him, but it was proving difficult. It didn’t help that Gwen was looking more concerned with each passing second.

“Alright,” she said. “If you feel like you’re ready to talk about it, I’m all ears.”

“I don’t know if I’d say ready,” Cullen admitted. “More, that you should hear this from me, especially if we’re going to continue courting.”

Gwen didn’t look assured by this. If anything, she looked more concerned. 

“If you’re not ready-”

“Gwen, please,” he said quickly. “Just… let me talk.”

She fell silent. Cullen had hoped it would help, but it didn’t. The seconds passed by as he tried to figure out the best way to start. He’d thought about this conversation a lot while she’d been gone, but now he couldn’t remember what he wanted to say.

“Back during the Blight,” he began, and immediately stopped. A knot had formed in his throat and he could feel his arms were shaking. 

Without another thought, Cullen turned and grabbed the cask of ale he kept on his desk and filled his tankard. He took a huge gulp of it, hoping that it would calm his nerves. It didn’t.

“Cullen-”

“I’m fine, Gwen,” he said, before taking another gulp of ale. 

“During the Blight, I was stationed—Shit!”

He’d meant to set his tankard on his desk, but his hands were shaking so badly that he missed the edge of the desk. Quick as a flash, Gwen was on the floor picking up the tankard and putting it on his desk. She pulled out her handkerchief and wiped up the worst of the spill.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, trying to kneel down to stop her. Before he could though, Gwen took hold of his hands.

“Cullen, stop,” she said, but hesitated as she looked down at his hands. “Maker, you’re shaking.”

“I’m fine,” Cullen said, pulling his hands out of her. He started pacing, he didn’t even try to stop it. He was getting frustrated with himself for his inability to talk about what happened at Kinloch Hold. Gwen watched him for a while before she spoke again.

“Cullen, listen. Wait until you’re actually ready to talk about Fereldan circle.”

He didn’t even dare to look at her as he said, “It’s not fair to you Gwen. There’s things in my past—things you should know.”

“Do you really think that I just started courting you because I thought you were perfect?” she said, looking at him intently.

“No, of course not,” he said. “I’ve made a fool of myself in front of you more times than I can count.”

“Then trust that I know my own feelings,” she said. “I grew up in a circle, remember. It’s not that hard for me to guess what might have happened.”

“And what if what I tell you changes what you think about me?” He asked. 

“If it’s enough to change my opinion about you, it wouldn’t have worked out between us in the first place,” Gwen replied. “There are things in my life I’m not ready to talk about with you just yet.”

“You need to know this, Gwen,” he said. “If I back out of it, I’m little better than a coward.”

He stopped pacing, but his hands tightened into fists. She was giving him an out, but it felt more like a failure on his part. Gwen approached him, and gently reached up to turn his head to look at her.

“You’re not a coward,” she said. “You’re one of the bravest men I know, my brave lion.”

“Lion?” Cullen said, frowning. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the pet name.

“With that fur ruff around your collar, it does give you the look of one,” she said playing with his fur collar. “But if you don’t like name, I understand. I’ve certainly had past lovers give me names I hated.”

“No, no I think I’m alright with it,” he said, the tension in his body easing a bit. Gwen smiled at him and leaned up to kiss him.

“Alright, my Lion,” she said giving him one of her warmest smiles. 

For a brief moment, Cullen wanted to pull her close and hold her. He always felt better when they hugged or held each other, but he didn’t. At this moment, he didn’t feel like he deserved it.

Gwen seemed to notice that something was wrong, for she placed a comforting hand on his arm and spoke.

“You’re still upset about not being able to talk about Ferelden Circle?”

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the floor.

“I want you to hear it from me,” he said. “I want you to know… my story. Not some report or from someone else.”

Gwen grimaced a little, concern filling her expression.

“I’m glad to know that you’re willing to try, but this is clearly upsetting you,” she said. “Maybe we do something else for a while. See if that makes it easier for you to talk about it.”

“Like what?” Cullen asked, wondering if anything could really distract him.

Gwen looked around the room for a moment, before heading over to his shelf where he’d left Josephine’s chess set. She picked it up and held it up for him to see. 

“Why don’t we play a game of chess?” she said. “You owe me a game anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Cullen asked, confused.

She put her hands on her hips as she said, “You beat a qunari, a Tevinter prince, a spymaster, and an elf who is probably one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met, and yet you lose to me. I’ll admit I’m good, but I’m not  _ that _ good.”

“I was distracted by you,” Cullen said with a shrug, trying to feign innocence. He had let her win, but he wasn’t just going to give that up to her. He could tell by her skeptical look that she didn’t believe him.

“ _ Right _ , and I’m going to be the next Divine,” Gwen said. 

Cullen chuckled and walked over to clear his desk off for the chess game. 

“Black or white?” she asked.

“Black,” he said. “It at least gives you a chance of winning.”

Gwen gave him a dangerously coy smile as she said, “if I wanted a chance, I’d just have turn this into a stripping game.” 

Cullen swallowed as the two conflicting thoughts of seeing Gwen without her clothes struggled with the years of the chantry telling him how such thoughts was sinful. 

“I… um…” he tried, but quickly found that he’d forgotten what he’d been about to say. Thankfully, she took pity on him.

“You can relax, Cullen,” she said, pulling up a chair and sitting down. “I’d much rather see if I can beat you fair and square. Though, perhaps some other night…”

“Yes, well… perhaps another time,” Cullen replied, trying to put from his mind all thoughts of what Gwen looked like without her clothes. 

“Commander, I seemed to have flustered you,” Gwen teased, moving one of her pawns. “Are you sure you’re going to be able to concentrate on the game?”

Narrowing his eyes at her, he leaned forward and moved one of his own pawns as he said, “Just for that, I’m not going to play nice.” 

She gave him one of her teasing smiles.

“Good. I won’t either.”

As the sun set, Cullen and Gwen played. He found it hard to concentrate at the beginning of game as he was trying to find the courage to talk to her about Kinloch Hold. As the game progressed, though, he soon found himself absorbed in the game. 

While he had let Gwen win the first time they’d played, she was still a fair player. At the beginning he managed to take his cleric and a few pawns, but as he started to concentrate on the game he managed to gain back some ground. 

Finally, he managed to corner her king. He leaned back in his chair with a triumphant smile. 

“Good game,” she said with a coy smile. “I’d suggest another game, but the sun has set.”

Cullen looked up and saw that she was right.

“How long have we been playing?” he asked, realizing that he’d completely lost track of time. 

“The night bell has rung,” Gwen said, smiling at him. “We probably should call it. We have a battle to finish planning tomorrow.”

Cullen agreed, but without the game to distract him, he was now realizing that they still hadn’t talked about Kinloch Hold. He reached out and stopped her hand as she started putting away the chess pieces.

“Gwen, wait,” he said. “I still want to talk to you about, Fereldan Circle.”

She stopped, waiting for him to talk. Once again however, the seconds passed turning into minutes. His chest was tightening as anxiety was building up inside him. Gwen looked down at the chessboard, grimacing.

“Cullen, do you really want to talk about this, or is this because of what I said about possession?” 

“Does it matter?” he asked, not looking at her.

“Yes,” Gwen replied. “If you’re doing this to save my feelings, then we should leave this for another time. And… it probably won’t achieve what I think you’re trying for.”

Cullen looked up at her, confused.

“What do you mean?”

Gwen fiddled with one of the chess pieces for a moment before setting it down.

“I think we can both admit that this whole situation with the Wardens has troubled us in some way,” she said carefully. “But you weren't the reason why I was upset. It was due to… past experiences.”

It made him feel a little better to know that her reaction to his lack of answer for the whole possession thing wasn’t centered around him. But there was one thing he had to know.

“What if I never can tell you?” he asked. 

Gwen only shrugged.

“Then you never do,” she replied. “It’s enough to know that you’re willing to try. But most of the time, when I see people are forced to talk about their painful experiences, it can do more harm than good.”

Cullen wished that he felt the same as Gwen about this, but he didn’t. He couldn’t shake that he was failing her in some way by not telling her. He tried to smile, though, trying to let her know that he would be alright. She smiled back at him, and leaned up to kiss him before she started to leave.

“Wait,” Cullen said, and he picked up the chess set.

“Could you return this to Josephine? I keep forgetting to give it back to her.”

Gwen took the board, frowning.

“This isn’t yours?”

“No,” Cullen said. “Ex-templar, remember. We weren’t allowed personal possessions.”

“Given how much you like the game, I’d have thought you’d have gotten one for yourself,” she said. “And you’re not a templar anymore.”

“I just haven’t had the time,” he said, making Gwen smile.

“Somehow, I’m not surprised,” she said. “If you could have one, what would it look like?”

“Has Josephine gotten you in on her attempts to find out about my birthday?” He asked suspiciously.

“No,” Gwen said. “Though she did ask if you told me.”

Cullen scowled, making her laugh.

“Seriously, though,” she said. “If you had a chess set, what would you want it to look like?”

It took Cullen a moment to think about it. He’d never really considered before what kind of chess set he’d like. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve seen some with dark redwood and white oak that I liked, but I haven’t really taken the time to think about it. There’s always been one I could borrow from somewhere.”

“Cullen,” Gwen said. “It's alright to actually enjoy yourself once in awhile. Not everything has to be about work.” 

“I know,” he said, reaching up to rub his neck. “I’m working on it.”

“I know,” she said. She leaned up and kissed him on the lips again, caressing his cheek as she pulled away. 

“Get some sleep, my Lion,” she said. The use of the nickname seemed to ease some of the tension in his body.

She turned and walked out of his office. Cullen walked up to the door and watched her go. A part of him wanted to call her back, to try telling her again. Another part of him was relieved that she was gone.

However, that didn’t change that he felt like he failed her in some way. Gwen had been very patient with him, but Cullen didn’t feel like he deserved it. 

“She understands a lot better than you think.”

Cullen started and looked around to see Cole standing behind him. 

“I told you to stay away from me!” Cullen snapped. 

“I won’t hurt you, I’m just here to help,” Cole said earnestly. “I’m not a demon. You’ve seen me help the soldiers, take away their pains.”

“Yes, and I notice you don’t ask them if they want help,” Cullen snarled. “Just because Gwen said you can stay doesn’t mean I want you in my head.”

“I can’t shut it out,” Cole said. “It’s like a voice to me, telling me their pain. You think you failed her by not telling her, but you didn’t. Like you, she didn’t expect to find someone. She’s just not used to it.”

“Used to what?” Cullen asked, despite his better judgement.

“Used to someone caring. She only expected love from a dead mother, and her brother. She sees the pain and knows. It’s like a mirror to her,” Cole continued. “You see it too.  _ Something deep. Someone hurt her. A templar or someone else? I want to ask, but I want to keep her safe. So much on her shoulders.” _

Cole paused, as if thinking. Cullen wasn’t sure what to say. A part of him was fuming, but a part of him wanted to know what Cole had to say.

“She was scared at first,” Cole said. “Now, the fear has quieted. New feelings she never expected to feel. You should pick her flowers from the garden. She loves the garden and how it smells. She never thought she’d have one.”

“How do you know that?” Cullen asked. 

“I heard her say that,” he said. “When she was in the garden. She couldn’t wait for the flowers to bloom.”

“Are you giving me courting advice?” Cullen asked, noting that Cole’s ramblings were a little different from his usual ones.

“Am I? I think you should,” Cole said. “It’s alright that you can’t share the pain right now. She’s not ready to either. Enjoy the peace, before the storm returns.”

Cullen was still annoyed at Cole for randomly appearing in his office, but he couldn’t deny that Cole had put him at ease. He didn’t feel the need to rush out and tell Gwen what had happened at Kinloch Hold. However, he still didn’t want Cole hanging around him.

“Cole,” he said, forcing himself to keep his voice calm. “I don’t like people trying to get in my head. Please, don’t come into my office unless I ask you to.”

“I’m just trying to help,” Cole said.

“Yes, I know,” Cullen said. “But I don’t like it. Just… send a message.”

_ At least I can ignore it, _ he thought.

Cole looked down at the floor for a moment, preventing Cullen from seeing his expression as he spoke.

“Alright.”

He vanished, leaving Cullen alone with his thoughts.

 

* * *

 

 

Gwen was in her office packing up in preparation the journey to the Warden’s keep. They’d be leaving the following day to head for Adamant. She could feel butterflies in her stomach at the thought of it. It wasn’t because she didn’t think they could win, it was more because this would be her first battle. 

What if they lost? What if she failed? What if she lost any of her companions, like Cullen or Dorian? She didn’t want to think about Skyhold without them, her heart ached at the thought. Dorian was quickly becoming like a second brother, and Cullen… In the short time she’d known him, he’d become important to her. Almost as important as her brother.

At the thought of Jared, Gwen looked at the letter he’d sent her. She’d been reading over and over again since she’d opened it that morning.

_ My Dearest sister, _

_ Or is it your Worship now? Don’t worry, I won’t start calling you that. Though, I must say, I’ve been getting more attention since you became the Inquisitor. I’ve gotten so many favors and love letters that I don’t know what to do with. Though, I’m sure these troubles seem trivial to you. _

_ There’s a report going around that you’re going to be facing the Wardens at Adamant. I’m sure that you’ll be victorious. From what I’ve heard, your army has grown considerably and is something to be marveled at. With an ex-templar leading them though, I suppose it’s not surprising. Just promise me that you won’t try to die again. I know you keep making these miraculous recoveries, but one can push their luck too far.  _

_ Speaking of the Commander, I’ve heard rumors that you are courting him. If this is true, why haven’t you told your loving brother? Don’t worry, I’m not actually angry. I just hope that the rumors are not exaggerating the truth and you’re in love with him as the Orlesian court thinks. I’d like to think that you found someone you truly care about.  _

_ As for myself, I’m doing well. Our grandparents are as kind as ever, though I won’t torture you with recounts of “how amazed they are that a mage would be made Inquisitor.” I think in their own way they’re proud. They’re certainly happy that Lady Montilyet reached out to us for help in procuring an invitation to the Masquerade Ball. Me, I’m just glad you’re still alive. _

_ I’m sure you don’t care, but father keeps sending me letters asking if I’ve heard anything from you. I don’t think he’s taking it well that you won’t invite him to Skyhold. I agree with your decision though. He's too dangerous to let stay at Skyhold. _

_ Promise to write to me once the battle at Adamant is over. _

_ You’re loving brother, _

_ Jared Trevelyan _

Gwen smiled at the missive as she finished reading it. It was good to hear from him, and from what she could see, he seemed happy. 

The mention of her father did trouble her, however. She’d hoped Lord Bran would’ve been contented with using his contacts and supplies to help the Inquisition, now that it was something not to be scoffed at, but from what Jared was saying, he wasn’t. 

She argued with herself about whether or not she should repeat to Josephine that her father wasn’t invited, but thought better of it. If she tried too hard to block her father, she’d have to explain why. She’d made it clear to Josephine that she wasn’t on good terms with her family, and she’d have to trust that Josephine wouldn’t give an invitation out without asking her first.

At least, she hoped it was enough.

Before she could return to her paperwork, there was a knock at her door. Setting aside her paperwork, Gwen made her way to her door. To her surprise, when she opened it, Cullen was standing there, one hand behind his back.

“Cullen,” she said. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Cullen said, blushing. “I just… I thought since we’ll be leaving for Adamant soon, we should do something together. And I brought you these.”

He removed his hand behind his back, revealing a small bouquet of flowers. Gwen smiled, taking the flowers and smelling them. 

“Thank you,” she said. “Are they from the gardens?”

“Ah, yes,” Cullen said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought you might like them.”

“I love them,” she said, leaning up to kiss him. “And yes, I’d like to spend some time together. Did you have anywhere in mind?”

“We could walk along the battlements,” he said. 

“Alright,” she said. “Just let me set these down and we’ll go.”

She rushed up the stairs, setting her flowers on her desk. If she saw a servant along the way she’d ask them to put the flowers in a vase. They were beautiful. It struck her that no one had ever really done anything like that for her. Not that she’d asked anyone to do such a thing for her, but she liked it.

A few minutes later the two of them were walking together along the battlements, enjoying the view. Even though there was nothing but mountains around them, Gwen loved it. It made her feel not just safe, but free. 

She felt Cullen take hold of her hand, and turning, she saw him smile at her. 

“You look beautiful,” he said. “Have I told you that?”

“Not recently,” she said, smiling. “You seem to be in a better mood.”

“I guess I am,” he said. “I just want to enjoy the time I have with you. It’s been a long time since I’ve let someone get this close, and I don’t want to lose this.”

“Neither do I,” Gwen said, touching his arm. “Are you still worried about last night?”

“A little,” Cullen admitted. “But if you’re alright with it, I guess we can let things be for now.”

“I agree,” Gwen said. “We’ve got enough problems already.”

She looked over the battlements, leaning against the wall. Cullen came and stood beside her.

“Are you feeling alright, with the battle coming?” he asked.

“I’m a little nervous,” Gwen admitted. “But Bull says that’s a good thing. At least we’re better prepared this time.”

“True,” Cullen agreed. “And our soldiers are better trained. With you leading the way, we can win this battle.”

Gwen smiled, and turned to face him. 

“So confident. Do I inspire you, my Lion?” she asked. 

He chuckled. 

“Yes, in more ways than one.”

“Oh really,” she said coyly. “Just how do I inspire you?”

He leaned up and kissed her with soft fluttering kisses before opening his mouth to deepen their kiss. Gwen wrapped her arms around Cullen’s neck, pressing herself close to him as she slowly pulled away. She kissed him back a few more times, sucking on his lower lip, eliciting a moan from him. She could feel sparks traveling along her arms, and her breathing started to speed up.

When they broke apart, they both were a bit breathless. She certainly didn’t want to stop kissing him, but they were out in the open. 

Instead, she smiled at him as she said, “Should I give you a kiss before we head into battle?”

He laughed again as he said, “I wouldn’t mind, though I’m not sure that’s very professional.”

“I think professionalism is overrated,” she replied. “Just promise me something. That you’ll be there, when the battle’s over.”

“I will, though the Inquisition needs you more than it needs me,” he said.

“That’s not true,” Gwen said. 

_ I need you, _ she thought.

Cullen tried to smile but it was more of a grimace, but he reached up and caressed her cheek. 

“I’ll be there at the end,” he said. “Make sure you’re there, too.”

“I will,” she said. 

She leaned up again and kissed him again, hoping that it was just another of several to come.

  
  
  



	22. The Fade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is possibly triggering, discusses instances of child and emotional abuse, nightmares associated with PTSD. There will be a summery at the end of the chapter for those who wish to skip it.

If anyone had told Gwen that she was going to fall into the Fade before the battle, she might have skipped out altogether. The fight against the Wardens had been taxing, but the Fade made the battle with the Wardens seem like a breeze.

They were within a Nightmare’s realm, and it was clearly taking delight in tormenting them.

Gwen had held it together when they’d fallen into the Fade. She had kept it together when those first memories were returned to her by the spirit who claimed to be Divine Justinia. And somehow, she kept it together when the first onslaught of giant spiders came running at them.

Now that she had the measure of what they were dealing with, Gwen felt certain that she could get her companions through this. She just had to keep them together.

“Your father won’t change, Dorian,” the Nightmare purred. “He’ll always despise you, just as he despises how you ran away to the Inquisition.”

“Ignore it, Dorian,” Gwen shouted, dragging him after her as they splashed through the muddied water. The Nightmare laughed before he spoke again.

"Sera, Sera, Sera," the Nightmare demon said gleefully. "If you shoot an arrow at me, I'll know where you are."

“Ow! My head!” Sera cried.

The Nightmare’s laughter rang inside her head, and Sera’s eyes teared up.

"Digging up all those trinkets, never suspecting what treasure truly lay waiting for you. But she won’t sit quietly forever Sera, she’ll wake up, and then it will be nothing but you and the void.

"Shut up you!" Sera shouted back. "Just _shut up!_ "

She drew her bow, and began to spin around, wildly aiming at the air. The demon continued to laugh at her.

“The Nothing is coming for you Sera, and you can’t stop it. The madness can’t keep her away forever.”

Sera lowered her arrow, and began to back into a corner, the spiders crawling towards her. As they drew closer, Sera crouched down holding her arms up to protect herself. Without thought, Gwen leapt forward and blasted the demons with a surge of electricity. As soon as they curled up dead, she rushed over, placing a comforting arm around Sera.

"Sera, it’s alright. Just ignore it. It's trying to get into your head."

"Well it's workin'!" Sera said, tears pooling in her eyes. “Why’d you bring us here?”

“I’m sorry. I promise you, I’ll get you out of here,” Gwen said as comfortingly as she could. The others looked doubtful, but she didn’t care. Sera rubbed her eyes and for the first time since Gwen had met her, she seemed like a lost little girl.

"I can't hav’ it find me. Not here! Don't let the the nothin' find me!"

Gwen had no idea what Sera was talking about, but she knew if she didn't get Sera to calm down they’d lose her. She hugged her, squeezing her tightly and forced a smile on her own face.

"It won’t find you here. I won’t let it. You just need to stay strong." Gwen said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "Pretend it’s a noble you want to stick it to."

The Nightmare demon’s cold laughter rang through the air.

"Ah, _Gwendolyn_ , I see you've fallen for another templar. Someone to mend your wounded heart?”

Her spine went rigid, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cassandra give her a worried look. Cassandra had already been attacked by the demon, questioning her faith, and Gwen was sure she was wondering what fears the Nightmare would throw at her. Gwen did her best to keep her face calm and pressed on.

"Does he really know you, or do you just hide behind the mask to conceal the broken little girl you really are?"

 _Shut up. Shut up!_ Gwen thought as she ran through the pool of water, trying to focus on killing the attacking demons.

"Shall I tell them what your father did to you? How he starved you in the study, called you a _monster_ , or made you watch as your brother was beaten? Do you still hear the crack of his eagle cane on your back?”

"It didn't kill me then," Gwen muttered. “It won't kill me now.”

The demon’s laughed louder and fear bit at her heart. She had no time to think. More of the spider demons came charging at them. Gwen gave a cry of rage and shot bolts of lightning at the dreadful creatures. As she destroyed the blighted spiders, the Nightmare sent another jibe.

“Your brother’s going to try to kill himself again, Gwendolyn. Everyone you love will die because of you, _Gwendolyn_. And it's all your fault. It’s _always_ been your fault.”

It was like a claw had been stabbed into her, tearing her down the center, reopening the wound. The hateful words of her father as he struck her with his cane: _Monster! Freak!_

Gwen gave a loud scream and brought her staff down with a violent wave of destructive energy, killing the last of the spiders. She breathed heavily, anger coursing through her body. She could feel everyone's gaze on her.

Closing her eyes, she forced herself to take a deep breath.

"Inquisitor," Cassandra said coming up to her. "I-"

"Don’t." Gwen said, not looking at Cassandra.

She saw Divine Justinia ahead, waiting patiently for them. Gwen was sure there was more memories the Divine had discovered, but Gwen had questions of her own.

"We must press on," she said moving forward. "If we're going to stop this Nightmare, then it's time to get some answers."

She shoved her fear and anger down into the pit of her stomach. At some point, she would have to deal with it. But for now, she had to focus on getting her companions out alive.

 

* * *

 

 

The way was open. It was just a matter of minutes and she'd be out of the Fade. Gwen dashed up toward the door when a large foot suddenly blocked her way. It was the giant spider, and Gwen knew that there was no way to pass it.

“You go,” Hawke said. “I’ll distract it.”

“No,” Alistair said. “I should stay. A Warden should-”

“A Warden should help them rebuild,” Hawke interrupted. “Corypheus is mine!”

The two continued to bicker, but the creature was advancing closer to them, and Gwen realized she would have to make the terrible choice.

“Hawke…”

It was all she could manage, but Hawke understood.

“Say goodbye to Varric for me,” she said. “And send Fenris… send him my love.”

Without another word she charged towards the spider, and both Gwen and Alistair ran for the opening.

 _Don’t look back. Don’t look back!_ she thought, but as she approached the door, Gwen turned and saw Hawke’s body go rigid. Gwen wanted to rush to her side, but Alistair grabbed her.

“Come on!” he shouted.

Tearing her eyes away, Gwen lept through the portal.

When her feet landed on the other side, she saw the courtyard was filled with demons fighting both Wardens and Inquisition soldiers. She held up her hand and summoned the power of the mark, sealing the door behind her.

All around them, the demons fell to the ground, vanishing with terrible screams. It took a moment for everyone to realize what had happened. When they did, a resounding cheer fill the courtyard. Gwen wished the cheers filled her with the same joy of her soldiers, but all she felt was a strange numbness.

Alistair stepped forward, distracting her, holding his side gingerly as he spoke.

“No demon army for Corypheus, it appears. The Divine—or her spirit—was right.”

“It seems so,” Gwen agreed.

“You know that’s not how they see it, though,” he said softly. “They just saw their Inquisitor work another miracle.”

“They came out of this alive,” Gwen said. “As far as I’m concerned, they can tell whatever stories they like.”

To her surprise, she really meant it. A small spark of warmth filled her and she was glad that her soldiers, her companions, and many of the Wardens were still alive.

A mischievous smile crept across Alistair's face as he said, “I suppose ‘the Inquisitor and her Warden friend escaped by the skin of their teeth’ wouldn’t be as good for morale.”

Somehow, she managed a smiled. She was about to say something more when a soldier came running up to her.

“Inquisitor. The Archdemon flew off as soon as you disappeared,” he said. “The Venatori Magister is unconscious, but alive. Cullen thought you might wish to deal with him yourself.”

 _A pity he didn’t fall to his death_ , Gwen thought. She thought she’d be angry, but she wasn’t. There was just the return of cold nothing in her chest as she listened.

“As for the Wardens,” the soldier continued, “those who weren’t corrupted helped us fight the demons.”

Beside her stood a Warden.

He saluted her as he said, “We stand ready to help for Clarel’s… tragic mistake.”

Gwen was about to give a response when Varric suddenly came walking through the crowds.

“Where’s Hawke?” Varric asked. Through the numbness, Gwen felt like a knife had been plunged into her again. She looked down, Alistair away. Cassandra stepped forward to stand beside Varric.

“Yes, where is she?” she asked. “I thought she was right behind us.”

Gwen was glad for the numbness; she could not feel the pain she was about to evoke. She looked away from Varric as she addressed the crowd.

“Hawke sacrificed her life to save us, and strike a decisive blow against Corypheus.”

Varric stood silent for a moment, before he shook his head and walked away. She’d have to give him time, let him get over his grief.

“She gave her life not because she’d sworn an oath, or been marked as special,” she continued. “But because someone had to do it.”

Alistair nodded at her, though she could tell that by the way his head drooped that he was upset by the loss of Hawke. He was quickly distracted by the Warden who’d addressed her earlier.

“Alistair, you’re the surviving senior Grey Warden,” he said. “What do we do now?”

Alistair had no answer but looked to her. Gwen didn’t hesitate.

“You stay and do whatever you can to help,” she replied. “Alistair believes that the Wardens are worth saving, and I trust him. You’re still vulnerable to Corypheus, and possibly the Venatori, but there are still plenty of demons to kill.”

She wanted to change things, to show people that even those who didn’t seem to deserve trust should be given the chance to prove it. She needed to lead by example and give the Wardens a chance.

Alistair seemed pleased with her response, and he stepped forward as he said, “While you do that, I’ll report to the Wardens at Wiesshaupt. Corypheus won’t catch us with our trousers down again.”

Gwen nodded. Before she could say anything else, the other Warden spoke.

“Thank you, your Worship. We’ll not fail you.”

The soldiers began to step away, but Alistair approached her.

“I’m sorry for what happened in the Fade, Inquisitor,” he said. “I wish you luck from here on out.”

“Thank you,” Gwen said. Her voice sounded flat to her ears. He smiled but he didn’t expand further, and bowed before walking away.

As Gwen stepped down from the small raised platform, her stomach churned, making her feel sick. The words the demons had said to her, the loss of Hawke—all of it was starting to overwhelm her.

She swallowed the bile coming up, and turned to see Dorian making his way over to her. She turned around quickly and almost ran into Solas.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I did not mean to run into you, Inquisitor.”

“It’s fine,” Gwen said, and tried to push past him when he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you alright?” he asked, giving her a concerned look.

“Yes,” she said briskly. Too quickly perhaps, as Solas certainly didn’t seemed convinced by it.

“Perhaps someone should escort you back to the camp. The Commander-”

“No!” Gwen said.

“I’m sorry,” Solas said. “Would you like me to escort you away from here?”

Gwen nodded. She had to get out of here.

Solas walked with her. She saw Dorian try to catch up, but she sped up, reaching the stairs before he did. She didn’t even look back as she all but rushed out of the courtyard.

As they walked, they met up with Sera and Cassandra. She said nothing to either of them as they made their way to army’s main camp, doing her best not to look back at Adamant. Both Sera and Cassandra didn't look back either. She was fairly certain that just like her, they wanted to forget the Fade.

It wasn’t until they reached the main camp, that Gwen made any attempt to talk to them.

“Cassandra, Sera, if I could’ve thought of another way to save us, I would have—”

“Just shut up you!” Sera snapped. “Just stay away!”

She dashed off before Gwen could say anything else. The rejection hurt more than she’d expected.

“For some, the Fade is too troubling for people to take in,” Solas said. If he was trying to be comforting, he was failing miserably.

“I think… we all just need a rest,” Gwen said, looking away from Solas.

She started to make for her tent.

As she walked away someone grabbed her arm.

“Let go!” she said, ripping her arm free and spinning around.

“Cassandra,” she said. “I’m sorry, did you need something?”

“No, I… just wondered if you were alright,” Cassandra asked. “The things the demon said-”

“Are in the past, Cassandra,” Gwen replied. “If you’ll excuse me, I need some rest.”

She turned away and started to make for her pavilion as quickly as possible, not looking at anyone.

As soon as she made it inside, she lit a candle before grabbing the bowl at her bedside. She filled it with water, tore off her gloves and began to try and wash away the scent of the Fade. As she scrubbed her vision blurred, the tears dripping down to cover her hands.

Looking down at her robes were covered in blood and muck and she tore them off until she was down to her breast-band and breeches, throwing them into a corner. She returned to scrubbing her hands, her face, and even her hair, wishing all the while that there was a pool where she could wash her whole body. To free herself of the stench and memory of the Fade.

 _Monster_ … _Freak_ …

Her father’s words rang loudly in her head, and Gwen gritted her teeth as they tore at her. The memory of the day she’d chosen to fight back, just once, had led to one of the most frightening days of her life. The new templar had come in and saved her, carried her out bruised and bloodied. She’d been saved, but her brother… her brother was still back there.

Alone.

She'd rushed into her brothers room when she'd heard the thud and found a bloody knife. Her brother's pale face.

Gwen had been helpless, trying to heal a wound she couldn’t see.

But she couldn’t, and they both knew it. She could only stop the bleeding and hold him in her arms.

And now her companions knew. Cassandra, Sera, and Dorian all knew what had been done to her.

Gwen fell back against her cot, staring up at the canopy of the tent, trying to hold back the panic threatening to burst from her. Her stomach twisted and turned.

“Inquisitor?”

It was Cullen, standing outside her tent. Gwen remained quiet, wishing that she hadn’t lit a candle, hoping that he’d go away. She didn’t want him to see her like this.

She didn’t speak, but after another moment, Cullen said, “Inquisitor, we need to discuss what has to be done in the morning.”

“Can’t it wait?” she asked, her voice strangled as she tried to hold back the bile building up in her throat.

“Gwen, what’s wrong?” He asked. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. Just go!”

Her voice broke, despite her attempts to control it. It was all too much. Too much. She could put up with holes in the sky, Corypheus, and even possessed Wardens, but having someone tear through her like that was too much.

She barely had a chance to grab the washing bowl and vomit into it. She retched violently as she threw up everything in her stomach.

Behind her she heard Cullen call out, “Gwen!”

She saw him rush to her from the corner of her eye and then stop abruptly when she managed to gasp out, “Don’t touch me!”

He held back as she vomited. After a few minutes there was nothing in her stomach and she started to dry heave.

It hurt. Every breath she took hurt as she tried to gasp for air. Cullen watched her anxiously for a minute, but when she continued to dry heave he started to talk.

“Gwen, you need to breathe,” he said. “You’re going to be alright, you just need to take slow breaths.”

She tried to follow his coaching words, and after a few deep breaths her stomach stopped trying to vomit itself up. As her body relaxed, however, fresh tears came.

Everything that had happened to her came out in floods. She couldn’t have stopped crying even if she tried. Cullen knelt down by her, but resisted touching her when she shied away from him.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she blathered, not even sure what she was apologizing for. For what had been done to her brother, for not stopping Corypheus, for leaving Hawke behind, or for just being a mage.

Cullen let her cry, only taking a moment to throw out the vomit, and when he returned he took his cloak off and draped it around her shoulders. She grabbed hold of it, holding it close to her.

After a while, her tears subsided. Cullen was still there, kneeling beside her, waiting.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked when she’d settled down.

“No,” she croaked.

The chill wind of the desert night blew through the camp, and Gwen’s teeth began to chatter.

“You're shivering,” he said. “Don't you have another shirt?”

“Yes,” she said. “My pack.”

She started to get up, but Cullen grabbed her pack, opened it and fetched a blue shirt, holding it out to her. She took it and pulled it on, trying to fasten the tassels. Her fingers were trembling so badly, though, and she couldn’t get the shirt to close. Cullen finally reached out and began to do them for her.

“It was a tough battle,” he said. “I was…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, and Gwen was grateful. She wasn’t sure she could handle someone else’s worries right now.

When he fastened the last tassle, he paused for a moment and brushed back the strand of her hair that always fell in her face. Something about that small familiar action seemed to break through to her, and as he moved his hand away she took it in hers.

“Will you stay with me, please?” she asked softly.

“What?” he asked.

“I don't want to be alone. Not tonight. We can have another cot, bedroll brought in, or we can share one. I don't care,” she said. “I just don’t want to be alone.”

He hesitated but after a moment he nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “We need to talk about our journey back and I have to speak with my captains, but after, I'll come.”

She nodded, staring at her knees.

He directed the conversation towards preparations for leaving Adamant. It took a great deal of effort for her to focus and several times, Cullen had to repeat a question, or prompt her to speak. Once they'd finished, Cullen got up and headed for the tent entrance.

“I'll be back as soon as I can,” he said.

Gwen nodded and she took off his cloak, holding it out to him, but Cullen shook his head.

“Keep it,” he said gently. “I’ll get it when I return.”

He left, and Gwen was alone with her thoughts.

For the next hour, Gwen focused on cleaning her armor and robes, trying to achieve that state of calm she was so practiced at, but it was proving difficult. Her hands shook as she tried to stitch a hole closed in her other shirt. It was hard to focus on the work when the demon’s words kept ringing through her head.

_"Does he really know you, or do you just hide behind the mask that conceals the broken girl you really are?"_

Swallowing, she pulled Cullen’s cloak closer around her, hoping that it would bring some comfort to her. It didn’t.

“Remember,” she whispered to herself. “You survive. You _must_ always survive. You promised Lydia you would.”

It was over an hour before Cullen came in with a bedroll and a cup of hot, sweetened tea.

“Try to drink it,” he said. “It will help your stomach settle and aid sleep.”

She didn't argue, but choked down the tea while Cullen rolled out the bedroll. He began to remove his armor, placing it carefully along the edge of the tent.

As soon as he was down to his shirt, breeches and, boots, he looked at her.

“Try to sleep,” he said gently. “You’ll feel better if you rest.”

She laid down on her cot, the remains of the tea set next to the cot. Cullen did the same after a moment, and the tent fell silent.

Gwen lay there, staring at the red canvas. Red, the color her father’s face turned just before he lost his temper.

_Monster…_

_Freak…_

_Alone._

 

* * *

 

 

Clunk.

Clunk.

Clunk.

Gwen knew that sound. It was the sound she'd come to dread.

Clunk.

Clunk.

She tried to get up and run, but something pulled on her arms, pulling her back to the ground.

Desperately, she looked around and saw that she was back in the prison in Haven, chained up again. In the shadows were a group of figures, some chantry priestesses, others templars. One of the figures opened a scroll and began to read.

“Gwendolyn Elizabeth Trevelyan,” the figure said, and a chill ran down Gwen’s back. It was her father’s voice. Now she could see him standing with that blighted cane of his with an eagle's head, his hand clenched around the screaming beak as he continued to speak.

“For the murder of the Divine, and the heresy of claiming to be the Herald of Andraste, I hereby condemn you to Tranquility.”

Fear gripped at her as she frantically called out to the group, _“_ No! It wasn’t me! I didn’t kill her! I’m not the Herald! Don’t do this, please!”

Her father laughed as he rolled up the parchment. As he did, his voice deepened, widened, until she could hear the Nightmare’s chilling laugh. Gwen screamed out to the now retreating figures, begging them to stop, to listen.

Suddenly, a burst of green light came from her hand, destroying her chains and knocking everyone to the ground. The pain was agonizing, but she was free. She stood up and walked amongst the fallen, expecting to see the dead forms of Chantry clerics and Templars. As she drew close however, she saw that the faces were very familiar.

Dorian’s, Cassandra's, Bulls, Sera’s, her brother and…

Gwen screamed, and rushed to Cullen’s still form, covered in blood. She grabbed hold of his body, shaking it as she called out to him. Begging him to wake up. His empty eyes just stared up at sky, but as Gwen tried to shake him awake his eyes filled with the green light of the breech. Out of the sky, the Nightmare’s chilling voice rang out.

“Everyone you love will die, _Gwendolyn_. And it's all _your_ fault. It’s _always_ been your fault.”

She backed away, crying. She turned when something stopped her from behind, and there she saw herself in a mirror, and standing behind her was her father.

“How could I love you, Gwendolyn?” he said. “You're a monster. _A freak_.”

“I'm not!” she said. “I'm not the monster here!”

“Really?” he asked. “Take a look in that mirror again, _girl_.”

She looked, and screamed as she saw that her image was horrid twisted version of herself. Her skin was blistered and melted, and her hair matted, and her hands claws. She tried to turn away, but her father grabbed her by the back of the neck, forcing her to look, just like he’d done to her as a child.

“See what you are? See that monster burning to get out? It’s just a matter of time before you can’t control it, and will come bursting out of you!”

As she looked at the abomination that was her, something else seemed to be shaping itself in the mirror.

It was Marian Hawke.

Only, it wasn't. She looked more like a blighted creature than a living human being.

“Why did you leave me, Herald?” she shrieked. “Why did you leave me!? You murdered me!”

Gwen tried to fight back, but her father’s grip was too strong, and she couldn’t break free. The next second Gwen felt the mark firing off, it's magic suddenly traveling up her arm in twists of agony.

“Gwen. Gwen, wake up!”

She jerked awake, sitting up as the cold night air hit her. She looked wildly around the tent, until finally, turning, she saw Cullen kneeling beside her.

His gaze was filled with worry, and he reached out to brush back the strands of hair that had fallen into her face, but she jerked away from his touch. Cullen grimaced, but lowered his hand.

“That must have been quite a dream,” Cullen said, trying to sound calm. “Your mark was glowing. Is it… hurting you?”

Gwen could only whimper, and wrap her arms around Cullen, holding him tightly as she trembled.

“You're alive.”

“Your dream,” he murmured after a moment.

“You were dead, and all the others,” she said, still shaking. “You, Dorian, Cass, Sera, Bull... even my brother. And Hawke... I left her. I left Hawke in the Fade. She was so angry at me.”

“You did what you had to,” Cullen said softly. “This Inquisition triumphs or fails by you.”

“And what about Hawke?”

She was starting to get angry. She didn't want to hear how her life was more important than Hawke’s. She shoved Cullen away, standing up and backing away from him.

“Don’t you get it! She gave up _everything_ for this world, and what was her reward? She got left behind to _die!_ Does she really mean so little?”

“No, I’m not saying that,” Cullen replied. “I didn’t know Hawke well, but I know she never did something she wasn’t willing to do. If she stayed behind, she did it for everyone, not just you. The people need you, Gwen.”

“Why?” she shouted. “No one gave a shit about me until I had this _blighted_ mark on my hand. That’s the only reason why people follow me. Because they think I’m some kind of _fucking_ savior and I'm _not!_ ”

Neither of them said anything for several seconds, and a great weight seemed to hover over the tent. After a while, Cullen looked away, his expression full of hurt and worry.

“When I saw you fall, I was frightened,” he said, at length. “I thought I'd lost you.”

He turned back to her, holding her gaze.

“I know you feel like you’re valued only for that mark, but I can tell you that there are people who would be devastated by your loss.”

Her chest churned. She tried to back away, but Cullen grabbed her hand, and she stilled.

“We care about you, Gwen. Please, try to remember that,” he said.

The feeling in her heart didn’t abate, but the guilt was slowly eclipsed by the warmth inside her. She leaned into him, burying her face in his chest, fresh tears absorbed by his shirt.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “It's that demon, it got into my head, and…”

“It's alright, Gwen,” Cullen said gently, stroking her hair.

“Don’t let me go,” she whispered. “Please, just hold me.”

For a moment, Cullen froze above her, but then he pulled her blankets out of the cot and onto the ground beside his bedroll before gathering her to lie beside him. As they both laid down, she curled into his chest, her eyes wide open. He held her, stroking her hair, until he began to sing.

It was a Chantry song, but his voice was what soothed her. As she lay there, she focused on his voice.

If he ever stopped she wasn’t sure. The next thing she knew, it was morning, Cullen was still holding her, and the nightmares were hours away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwen enters into the Fade and is confronted with her past. She managed to get her friends out but upon exiting the Fade she avoids her friends, especially Dorian. When she is unable to keep her emotions locked down she has a break down. Cullen finds her and tries to comfort her, even agreeing to stay the night in the same tent as her. Later that night, Gwen has a nightmare, but wakes to find Cullen beside her who once again tries to comfort her.


	23. Common Pain

When Haven fell, Dorian thought he’d seen the worst. He was wrong; the Fade was the worst. The words the Nightmare demon had taunted him with had been horrible, an affirmation of everything he feared, writ large for all the party to hear. Dorian had hated every moment of it.

Gwen though... Of all the fears revealed that night, Gwen’s had been indescribable. He’d guessed that something had happened between her and her father, but that...

It infuriated him. Why had no one stopped it? Surely with how everyone in the south feared mages becoming an abomination, they would’ve stopped it. He’d wanted to talk to Gwen about what had happened, but she’d been doing all but ordering the guards to bar him from her presence to avoid him.

It stung, but he hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone after he’d met with his father, either.

Truly troubling was how Gwen seemed to be avoiding everyone close to her, subtle though it was. She’d smile, be her usual kind self, but kept her conversations short and left as quickly as she could.

For the troops, however, she gave them her all. For them she always had time, spoke words of encouragement, and kept up morale. When they stopped for the night, she’d help the healers with the wounded. He suspected that this was her way of coping, and let her be.

Her presence in the healing tents was doing wonders for the soldiers’ morale. Already in high spirits, glad for their victory over the monstrous demons and the renegade Wardens, the personal attention of their Inquisitor made them downright jovial. Less could be said for the inner group of the Inquisition, especially Cullen.

Cullen wasn’t looking his best. Dark circles sat under his eyes, and he was back to picking at his food again. Once or twice, Gwen had gotten him to eat, but for the most part, she seemed too distracted to notice that he was suffering.

One evening, while they were eating their evening rations, Dorian sat next to Cullen.

“Hello” Dorian said, stirring the night’s stew. It was Iron Bull’s cooking, and it smelled fantastic. He hadn’t even minded when Bull had winked at him as he gave Dorian’s bowl an extra ladle.

Cullen, however, wasn’t touching his food. He kept stirring it, but he had yet to lift the spoon to his mouth.

“Where’s Gwen?” Dorian asked.

“She had trouble sleeping last night,” Cullen said. “I told her to go and get some rest.”

“Not a bad idea,” Dorian said. “You might want to consider it, too. You look like you haven’t slept since Adamant.”

“I’m fine,” he replied. “I’m just worried about Gwen. Whatever happened in the Fade has left a lasting mark with her.”

“Yes, well…” Dorian started and then stopped. He had no idea how to continue the conversation without revealing things he’d rather avoid talking about.

“I read the reports, Dorian,” Cullen said, correctly inferring his silence. “I know the Nightmare brought up your fears and worst experiences. Gwen just won’t talk about it.”

“Would you want to talk about a demon speaking your worst fears and experiences for everyone to hear?” Dorian grit out.

“No,” Cullen admitted. He finally took a bite of the stew, but went back to picking at it again almost immediately. Dorian took a deep breath and set his defenses aside.

“The Fade was tough to get through, not only because of what that Nightmares revealed, but also the truth of her returned memories. Just give her time. She’ll pull through,” Dorian said.

“I found her vomiting and crying in her tent,” Cullen said after a moment. “She kept apologizing. I’ve never seen her that upset and all I could do was stand there and be useless.”

“I’m sure you did a lot more good than you thought,” Dorian replied.

“Did I?” Cullen replied. “The Fade clearly messed with her. If I’d done more-”

“Cullen, fretting over her won’t do you or her any good,” Dorian said firmly. “She—we all survived the Fade. And I’m afraid that the damage was done long before she set foot in there.”

It was clear by Cullen’s grimace that it wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, but Dorian had nothing more to offer. He felt that Gwen should tell Cullen what had happened to her, but that wasn’t his choice. Maker knew that he’d kept his own peace about his father until the truth had been revealed for him.

He wasn’t sure what was worse, having a father try to change who you were, or being abused by one. He now understood why Gwen didn’t want anything to do with her father. He never would’ve forgiven his father if he’d done anything like that.

“Just tell me, Dorian,” Cullen said, breaking through Dorian’s thought. “Did the demon say anything about templars–”

“No,” Dorian said firmly. “I wish I could tell you more Cullen, but it's not my story to tell. The Nightmare already robbed her of that, and I’m not going to contribute anymore to her lack of choice.”

Cullen grimaced, but nodded.

“That’s fair,” he said.

“I’m worried for her too, Cullen,” Dorian admitted. “But she’s strong. She made it through the Fade twice. She’ll get past this.”

Cullen nodded and went back to picking at his food for a little longer, before setting the bowl down and standing up.

“I’ve got work to do,” he said. “We’ll talk later.”

“You should get some sleep,” Dorian called after him. If Cullen heard, he didn’t reply. Dorian grimaced in the silence. His fears that Cullen wasn’t doing well were only strengthened after that chat, but he wasn’t certain that Cullen would listen to him if he tried to get him to rest.

“Are you doing alright?”

Dorian looked up at the Iron Bull standing beside him, a bowl of hot stew in hand. Dorian scowled as Bulls sat down beside him.

“Vishante kaffas! Don't you ever bathe?”

Bull smiled at him.

“Sometimes. Want to watch, don't you?”

“I'd rather stand upwind,” Dorian replied, however he didn’t edge away. Bull’s smile widened.

“Admit it, you like it,” he said.

“Bull,” Dorian said running his hands through his hair. “I’m not in the mood for jokes. I’ve had a few rough weeks, and my best friend is in trouble.”

“The Boss? She’ll be alright,” Bull said.

“You weren't there, you don’t know what it was like, what that thing did to her!” Dorian snapped.

“I’ve guessed enough to get an idea,” Bull said, unphased by Dorian. “That Nightmare…”

He shuddered a little.

“What makes you think she’ll be alright?” Dorian asked skeptically.

“Because I talked to her,” Bull said. “She’s wounded, but she’s not broken.”

“Perhaps because the breaking was done long before this,” Dorian said. “And how does talking to her give you insight into what happened; she never gives anything away.”

“I know enough to connect the dots,” Bull said. “And no, she’s not broken. Just hurt, and you can come back from hurt.”

Dorian looked down at his stew again, and sighed.

“How can the people down here ignore what’s going on with the mages, the abuse, the imprisonment, and the neglect.”

“And things are so perfect in Tevinter? You ran away because your family didn’t like that you prefer men to women,” Iron Bull said. “Everywhere you go, people do terrible things. Moping about it won’t help.”

“Thanks, I’ll add it to the list of things I can’t do to help her,” he grumbled.

“Dorian, by the sounds of it, that demon spoke about things she wasn’t ready to share,” Bull said. “She needs some time, but she’ll come around. And I’m sure one of the first people she’ll go to is you.”

“How do you know that?” Dorian asked, surprised by how much he was depending on Bull’s words.

“Because you’re one of the few people who know’s what she’s been through, and she trusts you,” Bull said with a smile. “You’re a good guy, Dorian, and a good friend. She knows that.”

It was a comforting thought. Not much of one, but it was something.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling back.

“Anytime, Dorian,” Bull said, knocking his shoulder gently with a fist.

 

* * *

 

 

Though Bull’s words had given him comfort, Dorian still found his inability to help Gwen grating. By the time they returned to Skyhold, he’d had enough of being useless. Seeking comfort, he headed straight to the library, his one refuge, carefully staked out. Yet even amongst his books, his agitation didn’t calm. As he sorted through books, trying to find anything that could help distract him.

He hadn’t expected Gwen to approach him, but to his surprise, a few hours later, she appeared.

Dorian knew that he should turn around and speak to her, but he was still annoyed by her deliberate avoidance of him. Instead, he continued to stare at the shelf as he spoke.

“You have remarkable little here on early Tevinter History,” he said. “All theses ‘gifts’ to the Inquisition, and the best they can do is the Malefica Imperio? Trite propaganda.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gwen crack a genuine smile. It was a relief to see her actually smile again, but it did little to mitigate weeks of being politely pushed away.

“But if you want twenty volumes on whether Divine Galatea took a shit on Sunday, this is evidently the place to find it.”

“That’s the Dorian I know,” Gwen joked. “Critiquing every book in my library.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you could find some rebellious heretic archivist to join the cause,” he said. He knew he was being a bit unreasonable, but he wasn’t quite willing to let his anger go. Gwen however, seemed to read right through him and smiled in response.

“Are there rebellious archivists?” she teased. “Other than you, that is.”

“If Corypheus ever starts burning masterworks of literature, I’m sure a few will pop up,” he replied.

“Did I see something by Genitive here? I could’ve sworn…”

“What is this about, Dorian?” Gwen asked.

 _Does she really not know?_ Dorian wondered as he spoke.

“We went into the Fade!” Dorian said. “We actually went in! The things that Nightmare said were upsetting, and you-”

He stopped as Gwen shied away like she had been slapped in the face. He softened his tone as he asked, “I’m sorry. I’ve just been worried. Are you, alright?”

For a brief moment, it looked like Gwen was going to deny that anything was wrong, but her expression suddenly changed and for the first time, Dorian saw the raw pain that he’d theorized at, but never actually seen. Had it always been there or was he just noticing it now?

“Can we talk somewhere more private?” she asked. “Like my quarters.”

“Of course,” Dorian replied. “Lead the way.

He followed her out of the library and to her rooms. Walking through the Great Hall, Gwen was all smiles and cheer. If he hadn’t known better, it would seem as though the trip to Adamant hadn’t touched her.

As soon as they were in her room, Gwen sat down on her couch. Dorian walked over to the tray of wine that someone always kept stocked near her desk and filled two glasses.

“Vint-9,” he said holding out a glass to her as he walked over. “Josephine must be spoiling you.”

Gwen smiled, taking the glass from him as she said, “You just like it because it’s from Tevinter.”

“Wine from home is the best wine,” he said, with a smile. “But the Vint-9 is actually a good one.”

He sat down across from her as she took a sip. He watched her as she contemplated her glass. It seemed like she was trying to find the words to talk to him, and finally, after several minutes passed, Dorian broke the silence.

“You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to,” he said. “But I know what it’s like to be betrayed by your parents. If you need to talk…”

He trailed off as Gwen looked down at her glass of wine, twirling the stem between her fingers. After a moment, she spoke.

“There isn’t much to tell,” she said bluntly. “The Nightmare pretty well summed it up.”

It was only then that Dorian realized that he’d hoped the whole thing had been a lie, that Gwen hadn’t suffered at the hands of her own father.

“How did the Chantry not notice that your father was beating you?” he asked.

“He didn’t beat me,” Gwen said. “My father’s too smart for that. He saved the beatings for my brother.”

“But the demon said-”

“That was only one time,” Gwen explained. “When… when my brother tried to take his own life. Unlike me, he didn’t have anywhere to run. Jared was always under my father’s thumb, and one day, it became too much.”

Silence fell between them.

“Did your brother-”

“No, he didn’t succeed,” Gwen interrupted. “I came in just as he’d cut his wrists, and managed to heal him before he bled out. Once I was sure Jared was safe, I… I went to confront my father.”

Her jaw tightened for a moment before she took a huge gulp of wine and continued.

“I’m not sure what good I thought it was going to do. I just wanted him to know what he’d done to us—to Jared. To get him to, for once in his life, to realize what he’d done. Needless to say, it didn’t go over well. He couldn’t beat my brother, so he beat me.”

Dorian cursed.

“Andraste’s tits, he’s lucky you didn’t become an abomination right then and there.”

Gwen smiled bitterly.

“I wasn’t going to give my father the satisfaction of knowing he’d won,” she said. “He’d hold me in front of a mirror, trying to make me see the abomination inside me. Out of pure spite, I did everything I could to prove him wrong.”

“How did you survive?” Dorian asked, wondering if he really wanted to know. “The beating, I mean.”

Gwen didn’t answer right away, but took another huge gulp of wine, emptying the glass. Dorian held out the bottle, offering to fill it again. Gwen held her glass out for him.

“The templar that came with me,” she said. “He wasn’t supposed to be there, but he was one of the few who actually listened to Lydia when she tried to stop the templars from sending me home. He managed to switch out one of the Knight-Commander's cronies and take his place last minute. I think he came to try and find proof.”

Dorian frowned.

“Why? If the templars weren’t doing anything, why would he care?”

Gwen only shrugged as she said, “I don’t know. He never explained his reasons. I think, like Cullen, he still believed in the core values of the templar order and wanted to try and stop it. On our way back to the circle he apologized for what had happened. It was the first time I’d ever heard a templar apologize to a mage.”

For a brief moment, a smile crept across her face.

“I think it was the first time I actually believed a templar would look out for me,” she said. “When we returned to the circle, he reported what was going on. No one could ignore the bruises, so the Knight-Commander who’d been bribed by my father was let go, and I remained at the circle for two more years before the mage rebellion dissolved it all.”

Dorian sat on the other side of the couch, trying to process what Gwen had told him. Gwen had only escaped her father three years ago. What was frightening was how she’d described the whole event bluntly, with barely any emotion.

“What happened with your brother?” he asked, wanting to fill the silence that had fallen between them.

“My mother sent him to our grandparents in Orlais,” she replied. “The first time I’ve ever seen her actually defy my father, come to think of it.”

“Not something she does often ?” Dorian asked, knowing the answer already. Gwen laughed.

“No, well… let’s just say the only person happy at Trevelyan estates is Lord Bran Trevelyan,” she replied.

“I could say the same about my family, except that I think no one is happy there,” Dorian said after a moment. “I think my mother only stays there because she’s too drunk to be elsewhere much of the time.”

A sad smile crept across Gwen’s face as she said, “the life of nobles. Everyone dreams about being one. If they only knew the truth behind all the glamour.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Dorian replied raising his glass. Gwen clinked her glass against his, taking another drink.

As they lowered their glasses, Gwen coughed.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been avoiding you,” she said. “After the Fade, I just…”

“You don’t have to explain,” Dorian said. “I was upset, too. I’m just glad Cullen was able to be there for you.”

Gwen tried to smile again but it became a grimace as she took another sip of her wine. Dorian gave her a hard look.

“Gwen,” he said suspiciously. “This is the first time since you two have started courting that you haven’t lit up at the mentioned him. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Gwen replied. “Things just, got intense that night.”

“Intense,” he repeated. “How?”

Gwen looked down at the ground, running her hand through her hair.

“I was upset,” she said. “I was… not at my best.”

“Cullen didn’t say you fought,” Dorian replied. “If anything, when we talked he was worried for you.”

Gwen made no response but continued to look at the ground, taking another mouthful of wine.

“Gwen, I know that look, and don’t you dare let what that demon said get to you,” he said firmly. “You’re stronger than that. And Cullen, I think he would die of a broken heart if you left him.”

“He doesn’t really know me,” Gwen said, finally looking up at him. “He just knows the face I put on for everyone. And you give Cullen little credit.”

“You do _yourself_ a discredit,” Dorian replied. “Whatever that demon said was only your worse fears, not truth. And if you’re really that worried about it, why not just tell him?”

“You don’t get it, do you?” she replied. “When I came here, no one knew about my past except Leliana, who, I’m fairly certain, already knows the next Divine, and the name of the next four ages. It might have been a lie, but it was freeing, and I thought I could moved past it all.”

Despite himself, Dorina smiled.

“Gwen, why do you think I came south?” he said. “I felt the same when I came to the Inquisition. I thought I’d finally escaped the confinements of my home, only to realize I hadn’t. You should tell him. What if something happens that upsets you and he doesn’t know why? Or what if your father arrives here?”

“My father is not invited to Skyhold,” she said harshly.

“Does Josephine know why? Because if you haven’t told her, that’s dangerous,” Dorian replied. “From what you’ve said, I wouldn't be surprised if your father invited himself here. Cullen, at least, should know. He’s close enough to Josephine to get her to bar your father from setting foot in Skyhold.”

Gwen’s jaw tightened again.

“Gwen-”

“I’ll tell him,” she interrupted. “Soon. When I’m ready.”

It wasn’t quite the answer he was hoping for, but he supposed it was all he was going to get. He reached out and placed his hand on hers.

“You’re strong, Gwen,” he said encouragingly. “I know a lot of mages who couldn’t have survived what you went through.”

“Thank you,” Gwen replied. She looked down at her glass and put on a brave smile.

“I suppose, it could’ve been worse. I don’t have amnesia anymore.”

“True, though I hate to think what the results of our little walk through the Fade will be,” he said. “If you can walk in the Fade, others will try to follow. Who knows what secrets Corypheus has revealed?”

“No sense of adventure?” Gwen teased.

“Seriously, Gwen. Not all of them will be as lucky as us,” Dorian replied. “What they could unleash…”

It didn’t bare thinking about. The last time that had been done, the blight had been set loose. Next time, it could be more worse.

“What’s your advice, then?” Gwen asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“My advice?” Dorian replied. “Keep this quiet. Let them speculate. Too many will see this as a challenge.”

“I agree,” Gwen said. “As much as I’d like to clear up a few things, I realize the legends are sometimes better than the truths.”

“Sadly, that’s all too true,” Dorian agreed. “There are enough idiots who think if they just use enough blood magic, their problems will vanish. It’s exactly the sort of thing I want to stop back at home.”

“I do understand the sentiment,” Gwen said. “There were times I wanted to use magic to make my problems go away.”

Dorian grimaced and reached out to take her hand again.

“Me, too,” he admitted. “But I think we both know that nothing can really make our problems go away.”

Gwen smiled sadly. “No, you can’t. Somehow, someway, your past comes back to haunt you.”

“Too true,” Dorian agreed. He looked down at his glass for a moment before looking up at her again.

“Tell me,” he said carefully. “The Nightmare kept calling you Gwendolyn. Why?”

“It’s my full name,” Gwen said with a shrug. “I just don’t use it because it makes me sound old.”

“I can understand,” Dorian agreed. “But the Nightmare could’ve called you anything, Inquisitor, Trevelyan, Herald. All of which are much more familiar names for you. Why use your first name?”

Gwen hesitated for a second before she answered, “Because… the only person who calls me that, is my father.”

“I see,” Dorian replied. He sighed heavily and took a gulp of his own wine, finishing his glass, and refilled his glass.

“I think, you and I should drink ourselves into a stupor. Or at least until we don’t give a shit about the world.”

Gwen smiled and held out her glass for him to fill.

“That, I can drink to,” she said, toasting him before taking a drink. Dorian joined her, glad to see a little of the Gwen he knew shining back through.

Once they’d taken a drink, Gwen licked her lips nervously before she asked, “have you talked to Cullen? I’ve been… distracted.”

“He’s looked better,” Dorian admitted. “I think letting him know what’s going on would help.”

Gwen nodded and took another sip of her glass before she said, “I know. I’ll try. And… thank you for being patient with me. I’m sorry that I pushed you away.”

“All’s forgiven. But Gwen, there’s something I need you to hear,” Dorian said, looking her directly in the eye. “None of this was your fault. Not the abuse, not the Fade, nor how you reacted afterwards. You don’t have to apologize to anyone about that. Ever.”

He watched as Gwen’s eyes watered, but that was all.

A part of Dorian wanted to try to help her, but he knew that he couldn’t. Only time would heal that, and even then there would be scars.

 


	24. Interlude: Farewell to Friends

The sun was high in the sky as Gwen approached the scaffold. Erimond was on his knees, shaking with fear. She should feel some pity for him, but she didn’t. The smug look on his face as he’d egged the Wardens into killing each other and become possessed was still imprinted on her memory . Not to mention his arrogance as she’d proclaimed his fate during his judgement.

Leliana stood at the foot of the scaffold, holding the Blade of the Inquisitor ready for her. As Gwen wrapped her hand around the hilt, she felt the weight of it, and with it, the weight of what she was about to do. This wasn’t going to be like taking a life on the battlefield, this was taking a life to mete out justice.

Her silence must have caught Leliana’s attention, for she leaned forward and whispered to her.

“You made your choice; do not hesitate.”

Gwen nodded curtly before she started up the scaffold stairs, posture straight.

His wide eyes fearfully watched her progress. Whatever bluster he’d had in the Great Hall was gone now. Despite his faith in Corypheus, he was alone here on the scaffold. There was a brief moment where she felt some pity for him. He had been mislead after all. Then she remembered what he’d done to the Wardens, and all pity left her again.

She swung her sword back, brought it down on his neck.

Blood splattered and a groan came from the crowd as Erimond head rolled to the ground. There was a brief moment of silence, and then the crowd began to jeer.

Gwen didn’t share in the crowds revelry, but took a piece of linen cloth that a guard handed to her and cleaned off the blade. When she looked over the crowd her eyes fell on Cullen.

He nodded in approval, but there was no smile from him. She nodded back, but noted that Cullen didn’t look well. When she’d seen him last a few weeks ago, he’d looked tired, but she’d attributed that to the fatigue of running the army. Now, he almost looked ill. He was pale, and the shadows under his eyes were darker than they usually were.

She descended the stairs and handed the sword back to Leliana, before heading over to Cullen.  

“Are you alright?” he asked before she could say anything.

Gwen blinked. “Why wouldn't I be?”

“This is your first execution,” he said. “Executing someone is not like killing an enemy in battle.”

“I'm fine, Cullen,” she assured him. “What about you? You don’t look like you’ve slept in days.”

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’ve been busy, Gwen.”

“When did you last eat?” she asked, noting that he hadn’t really answered her question.

“Gwen, I’m fine. You don’t have to fret over my eating habits,” he said irritably. “And I have some reports I need to pass onto Leliana.”

He started to turn away, but Gwen reached out and took his hand, stopping him.

“Cullen, please, tell me what’s wrong,” she said.

He hesitated, and for a brief she thought he was going to tell her, but he turned away instead.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” he said, slipping his hand out of hers. He walked off before she could try to stop him again.

Her throat tightened, but she didn’t follow after him. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with Cullen, but she wasn’t willing to be rejected again. Not from him.

She headed for the Great Hall. There was one thing she had to try to take care of. Varric hadn’t talked much after the Fade. He’d briefly spoken to her, letting her know that he didn’t hold her responsible for what had occurred in the Fade, but other than that, they’d said very little to each other.

When she entered the Great Hall, Varric was in his usual spot by the fire, his back to everyone else. Gwen quietly approached him, not sure if he was ready to talk to her or not.

He turned his head to look back at her before he began to speak.

“Did I ever tell you about the time that Hawke was on a Merchant Guild hit list?” he said, staring at the fire. “Hawke’s uncle got into an investment scheme with a couple of Merchant caste businessmen.They took a lot of people’s coin in order to arrange an import of Wandering Hills from the Neanderthals. A delicacy, I’m told.”

Varric finally turned to face her. She could see his grief and she swallowed. She wanted to throw out explanations for why she’d done it, why she’d left his friend in the Fade, but something told her it was best just to listen.

“Their weird foreign food stuff arrived, and one of them, true to it’s name, wandered off in the middle of the night.”

He looked at the ground. Gwen wasn’t sure if he was crying, but she wouldn’t be surprised. He’d lost his best friend. Nothing was ever going to replace Marion Hawke.

She stepped forward and hugged him, hoping that in some way it might ease the pain. She hadn’t expected anything from Varric in return, but he let his head fall onto her arm. For several seconds, they just stood there, until finally, Varric gave a heavy sigh and straightened up.

“Damn it,” he said, and wiped his hand across his eyes. Gwen said nothing, but waited for Varric to continue talking.

“The Guild…” he continued. “traced the shipments to Hawke’s uncle, but as usual, he was so far in debt that he couldn’t see daylight. So, they went after Hawke instead. They sent guys from the local Carta to Hawke’s estate one night. Five big dusters. Armed to the teeth.”

Gwen smiled. Somehow, she had a feeling that despite what the Carta had thought, they were no match for Hawke. Varric smiled in response as he continued his story.

“They’re about to break down the door, when Hawke just up and invites them all inside.”

Varric chuckled, and even Gwen smiled as she listened.

“Leandra, Hawke’s mother, made them tea, and for the next two hours tried to get them to make small talk. They wandered out of the house in a daze. No idea what happened. Never came back.”

Varric’s smiled, brighter than it had been in days, when he faltered.

“Hawke just had that way with people,” he said sadly. He kicked his feet around for a moment, before he spoke again.

“I always wanted to tell that story. Thanks.”

“Of course,” Gwen said. “If you ever want to talk about her, I’ll listen.”

“I know, Sparky. Thank you.” he said. “But I’ve got some letters to write. I should be the one to tell Fenris.”

The use of her nickname was encouraging, and she remembered what Hawke had asked her to pass on.

“Hawke wanted me to pass on her love to Fenris,” she said. “I know it doesn’t help, but perhaps…”

She didn’t finish the sentence. The guilt and pain were still too raw for her to talk about anything that had gone on in the Fade with ease.

“It might help to know that he was in her thoughts,” Varric agreed. “Thank you for telling me. If you’ll excuse me.”

Gwen nodded. She had a feeling that Varric had forgiven her for leaving Hawke in the Fade, but it was going to take time for things to completely mend between them. Not for the first time Gwen found herself questioning if she’d done the right thing. She’d made her choice and there was nothing she could do to change that, but the thought ate at her nonetheless.

Why did it have to hurt so much though?

She walked out of the Great Hall. Ever since Adamant, she’d been avoiding the thought of the battle as much as possible. Everyone wanted to ask her about the battle, but she didn’t want to talk about it. To everyone else it was a great, grand victory, the heroic Inquisition defeating the rogue Wardens, only to welcome them into their ranks. To her, it was a nightmare she didn’t want to relive.

A few of her companions quite clearly shared her desire, but it was her job to see to it that her companions were coping.

Without a backward glance, she made her way to the courtyard, shelving away her own regrets. It was time to be the Inquisitor and look out for her people.


	25. Interlude: Mending

Ever since the Fade Sera had been avoiding Gwen like the Blight, but now Gwen hoped that enough time had passed that she’d at least be willing to listen.

As she made her way over to the Herald’s Rest, she saw Cassandra swinging at the Iron Bull with a quarterstaff. _What in the world...?_

“Again.”

Cassandra slammed the staff into him. Bull grunted, but only looked more determined.

“Again!” he said, a little louder this time. Cassandra swung the staff again, hitting him harder, but Bull only grunted glaring at her.

“You see, this is why the Qun doesn’t like women fighting,” he growled. “I should’ve asked Cullen.”

Gwen couldn’t see Cassandra’s face, but she had a feeling that Bull’s comment had hit the spot. Sure enough, Cassandra swung with all her might, knocking the Iron Bull to the ground.

He moaned in pain as he said, “Good one.”

Cassandra sniffed and, turning to see Gwen, she held out the staff to her.

“Perhaps you can take over,” she said, before walking off.

Gwen took the staff, frowning at it.

“Qunari training exercise,” Bull explained, seeing her confusion. “To master your fear. I heard about the Nightmare in Adamant. Sounded big.

“Can you explain why I’m supposed to hit you with this stick?” Gwen asked.

“Probably, if I try,” Bull said with a smile. “It would involve a lot of qunari words though. Just hit me with the stick, alright. I need to get over this demon crap.”

“Alright,” Gwen said with a shrug.

She held up the stick and swung it as hard as she could, hitting him on his hip.

“There we go!” he said excitedly. She swung the staff again, hitting as hard as she could again. Bull grunted again.

“Damn demon,” he said. “Who’s stuck in the Fade, huh?”

Gwen swung the staff again, before she drew it back and said, “You fought in the siege. Every demon in Adamant wanted to tear you in half!”

She swung the staff again, hitting him with all her might. Bull grunted in pain but barely flinched as he spoke.

“Take that, you demon assholes!” he shouted.

Gwen struck him again. She didn’t understand it, but the exercise seemed to be having an effect on Bull.

“And who killed you?” he asked as Gwen hit him again. “That’s right, Iron fucking Bull!”

He sighed in relief, his body relaxing as he smiled at Gwen.

“I needed that,” he said smiling. “Thanks, Boss.”

Gwen was still confused. “And that works for you?”

“Yep,” Bull said, looking like a cat who’d found a bowl of cream.

There was no sensible response Gwen could give to the whole exercise, but she supposed if it worked for him, who was she to judge.

“Alright, then,” she said, and was about to head for the tavern when Bull stopped her.

“Hey, Boss. Alright if we have a word for a minute?”

Gwen shrugged, seeing no reason to say no. Sera wasn’t going anywhere as far as she knew. Bull walked over to a pair of barrels and sat down on one while she remained standing.

“Adamant was tough,” Bull said in a very business like tone. “I could see after, you needed some time to work past what you saw. Despite that, you kept up the soldiers’ morale, which was good. Now, though, you need to turn your attention to your inner circle. Morale does no good if your center is falling apart.”

“Just who do you have in mind?” Gwen asked, though she had a feeling she knew.

“Varric, if you haven’t already talked to him,” Bull said. “Sera too, but it’s Cullen I think needs the most help. He’s been struggling with something, possibly his lyrium addiction, and it’s getting the better of him.”

“I know,” Gwen said, looking away from him. “But I’m not sure what to do. I approached him earlier but he pushed me away.”

“I never thought I’d hear you give up that easily,” Iron Bull said skeptically.

“I’m not giving up,” she said, sitting beside him. “But I can’t help him if he won’t tell me what’s wrong. And I don’t think it’s the lyrium. At least, not really.”

Bull nodded slowly.

“It’s harder when you care about someone, but you’re probably the only one that can get through to him,” he said.

“And if I can’t?” Gwen asked, looking up at Iron Bull. “I mean, what do you do if Krem or one of your Charger’s is having a problem?”

“Usually get them a drink or let them work out their frustration in a fight,” Iron Bull grinned.

Despite herself, she smiled back at him.

“I don’t think that will work with Cullen.”

“No,” Bull agreed. “But he cares about what you think of him. He’s been trying to hide it from you because you’ve been having your own problems, but you need to help him fight his demons or you’re gonna risk the team falling apart.”

Gwen pressed her lips together, knowing that Bull was right; whatever was troubling Cullen, it _was_ getting the better of him. The only problem was she wasn’t sure how to reach out to him. Bull noticed her frustration and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“I know it’s hard, given what’s between the two of you, but trust me,” he said. “Right now, you need to be the Inquisitor, not a lover.”

“You’re right,” she said, pushing her hair out of her face. “If I’d been a better Inquisitor, this wouldn’t have happened.”

To her surprise, Bull frowned and shook his head.

“Boss, the important part of leading is keeping yourself together,” Bull said. “You’ve come out of the Fade, and you’re stronger for it. Now, do what you can for the rest of them.”

Gwen wasn’t sure if she believed _that_ , but neither could she deny that his advice seemed wise. She was better now that the horrors of the Fade were farther away, and she needed to see to her followers. To be there for them.

“And you,” she said. “How are you?”

He smiled at her.

“Just fine, Boss,” he said. “When we get back from Orlais or Ferelden, I might have some news for you.”

“Good news, I hope,” Gwen said, a little wearily.

“If I’m right about what I think it is, yes,” he said.

She wondered what his news could be. She suspected that it might have to do with the Qunari, but she’d heard nothing from Leliana.

There was no point in worrying about it until Bull told her.

“I look forward to your news,” she said with a nod. “And thank you, Bull.”

“Anytime, Boss,” Bull said with a nod of his own.

They walked together to the Herald's Rest, before separating inside. Gwen headed up to the second floor, for Sera’s room.

Usually, the door was open, but today it was shut. Not a good sign, but she took a deep breath and opened the door. Sera was standing inside, fiddling with a small trinket. She didn’t even look back as Gwen walked into the room. Taking a deep breath, Gwen started to speak.

“Sera, about Adamant and what happened in the Fade-”

Without warning, Sera spun around, her hand balled into a fist. Gwen quickly ducked, only narrowly missing the blow.

“A good shot,” Gwen said calmly. “Now, why are you really angry?”

“Shut up and listen, yeah?” Sera snapped. “Never again, you hear me? Everyone is pretending it made sense. Demons and visions and all of it. The Fade isn’t real.”

Gwen wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She knew that Sera didn’t really believe in the Maker, but as her anger melted into fear, Gwen wondered if Sera was questioning her own beliefs. Before she could ask though, Sera continued to speak.

“And I saw nothing. _Nothing_. They were… like little empty _things_. Like, there’s nothing in the dark. No point. Stupid right? That shouldn’t be scary like… like it was. I’d have taken spiders.”

As smile suddenly crossed Sera’s face and for the first time she made eye contact with Gwen.

“Like you! You’re scared of spiders? All of them? Even the little ones?”

Despite herself, Gwen had to smile a little as she said, “Yes, I’m pretty much scared of all spiders, yes.”

“That’s no good,” Sera said, her smile growing. “I mean, they’re everywhere. I bet even right here, just crawling with those legs and hairy eyes.”

Gwen gave a little shudder at the thought and Sera’s smile fell as she said, “That’s probably not helping.”

Gwen nodded sheepishly. She knew there were probably spiders everywhere, but being reminded of that fact wasn’t helpful. Sera looked back at the ground, here brows furrowing with anger.

“Though, I suppose they’re better than some things,” she said. “Didn’t think Nobs would beat up on their own. You hear about the bad ones treating the servants terribly, but not the children.”

Gwen didn’t really want to go into her abuse, but she could tell that she needed to for Sera’s sake.

“Nobles take great care to hide that kind of thing,” Gwen said. “No one likes noble who hurts their family.”

“What I don’t get is, isn’t the circle supposed to stop that? That’s why they’re there in the first place,” Sera said incredulously.

“My father has a long arm,” Gwen said with a shrug. “It was years before the templars realized what was going on.”

“It sounds like you could’ve used a Jenny,” Sera said, a small smile coming back.

“Yes, I probably could’ve,” Gwen agreed. “But I’m away from him now, which is what matters.”

“But you were upset in the Fade,” Sera said. “I saw it, in your eyes. You covered up and tried to pretend, but you were scared.”

“Yes,” Gwen admitted. “I was, but I’ll be alright. So will you.”

“It’s stupid to think about anyway. Everybody going on about imaginary stuff when real people died. Probably,” she said. “Hawke, yeah? Lost a hero there. And in trade, a busted-down bunch of Wardens. And they’re weird.”

“How so?” Gwen asked, thinking that the Wardens were no more stranger than a mage or a templar.

“Usually bad stuff happens first so you’re glad when the hero shows up,” Sera explained. “But Wardens are the wrong way ‘round. They’re the good thing that means a bad thing is about to happen. Like in Denrim, when the Blight ended.”

“A lot happened in Denrim. ” Gwen led, feeling it was best to just let Sera ramble.

“People talked a lot about this one Warden,” Sera said. “There was a big fight, and they died, or, I don’t know, maybe they didn’t?”

“The Hero of Ferelden?” Gwen said incredulously. “You forgot the Hero of Ferelden?”

“That was ages ago,” Sera said with a shrug. “Ten years. I was playing with small painted boxes and burying stuff I stole. I remember more people cringing about magic than the Blight. Wardens were an excuse for your stuff to go missing. Blackwall’s nice, though. Different from the Adamant ones. Need more like him.”

Gwen hand to nod in agreement. She hadn’t spoken with Blackwall since Adamant. He was one of the few of the inner circle that stayed behind to protect Skyhold. However, given his reverence for his order, she suspected that he was just as upset as everyone else.

“Perhaps they’ll get better after this,” she said.

“Doubt it,” Sera replied. “But enough ‘bout that. I have an Inquisitor thing to ask. Just a little thing really. An ol’ march around of some of your people.”

Gwen was a little surprised that Sera was so ready to ask for her help after the Fade, but she took it. If this was her way of mending things between them, it was a relatively small price.

“Alright,” Gwen said. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.”

Sera smile.

“Jump right in, I like that,” she said. “It’s a Red Jenny thing. I got a tip that some nobles are arguing over La Rouchel. Land squabble. They’re getting little people beat up. So I need you to go to your big table and send some people to walk through town.”

“Just walk through town?” Gwen asked, a little confused with Sera’s plan.

“Just walk through,” Sera confirmed. “Easy, right?”

Gwen was still confused about what Sera wished to accomplish. Not that she wasn’t unfamiliar with what the nobles were doing. Her father had pulled such tricks himself, but she wasn’t sure how Inquisition soldiers would help. Perhaps it was just an intimidation tactic Sera was looking for.

“Was this a tip from one of your people?” Gwen asked, wanting to know a little more before she got in the middle of a turf war.

“Not a Jenny. Just a person,” Sera said. “Lil’ people who are tired of being pushed around. I don’t usually hear about things this far away. Having a friend like you is like getting really big ears.”

“I’m still trying to work out how this will help,” Gwen said.

“Stuff like this is always happening,” Sera said. “Two people go at it and it’s like a polite war. But with you marching through, the people up top feel threatened. Both get scared and both make deals. It stops the fighting.”

It made sense, now that Gwen thought about it. She just hadn’t realized how important the Inquisition had become that they’d even consider her a threat.

“Alright, Sera,” Gwen said. “I’ll have someone look into it.”

“It’s fun right?” Sera said with a big smile. “Being important without doing a thing. Well, much of a thing. Better than demons anyway.”

“I can agree with that,” Gwen said. She looked out the window and realized that it was late afternoon. If she wanted to talk to Cullen, it would be better if she left soon.

“Thinking about your Cully-Wully?” Sera asked with a wicked grin.

“My what?” Gwen asked, not sure if she’d hear Sera correctly.

“Cullen,” Sera said. “You’re looking out the window with that hazy look you get when you see him. It’s alright. I got some things to do anyway.”

“Well, yes,” Gwen agreed. “But not for the reasons you’re thinking.”

“He hasn’t been sleeping, you know,” Sera said. “Stays up late, like he’s afraid to sleep.”

“I know,” Gwen said. “It’s why I want to talk to him. But if you still need to talk.”

“Go on,” Sera said, waving a hand and turning back to place the trinket on a shelf. “I got things to do.”

Gwen was grateful for Sera’s dismissal, but before she left she said, “I’ll take care of that Jenny thing for you as soon as possible.”

She made her way towards Cullen’s office. They needed to have a talk, and she wasn’t letting him dismiss her this time.


	26. Forgiveness

The afternoon sun warmed Gwen as she made her way over to Cullen’s office. The last time she’d seen Cullen, he hadn’t looked well. She felt a twinge of guilt that she hadn’t paid more attention to what was going on with him on their journey back from Adamant. The only way to fix it though was to go and talk to him.

When she opened to door to Cullen’s office however, he wasn’t there. Instead, there was a messenger waiting by the desk. The messenger looked up in surprise, but she quickly straightened and bowed to Gwen.

“If you’re looking for the Commander, he’s with Lady Pentagast,” she said.

Gwen frowned. She supposed it wasn’t completely out of the ordinary, but normally Cullen would be doing drills or working on paperwork in the afternoon.

“Is he alright?” she asked.

“He didn’t look so well when he left,” the messenger admitted. “But it’s not my place to question the Commander, Your Worship.”

Gwen pursed her lips. She was starting to wonder just how much she’d missed about what was going on with Cullen.

Nodding to the messenger, Gwen made her way down to the smithy, Cassandra’s usual haunt. When she approached the practice area with the dummies, though, she saw neither Cullen nor Cassandra. Guessing that they were probably in the smithy propper, she made her way over to the door and pushed it open.  

As soon as she did, she could hear Cassandra’s voice.

“You asked for my opinion, and I’ve given it. Why would you expect it to change?”

Gwen hung back and watched. She could see Cassandra standing with her arms folded. Cullen, on the other hand, was fidgeting, his face a mass of confusion, doubt, and a strong helping of frustrated irritation. He glared at Cassandra.

“I expect you to keep your _word_. I-it’s relentless. I can’t–”

“You give yourself too little credit,” Cassandra interrupted, but Cullen only shook his head running his hand over his face. When his hand dropped, he glared at Cassandra.

“If I’m unable to fulfill what vows I kept, then nothing good has come of this,” he growled. “Would you rather save face then admit-”

It was at that moment, Cullen noticed her. The anger in his expression melted away to be replaced with shame. Immediately, he headed for the door.

Gwen wanted to stop him, but Cullen pushed right past her, avoiding her glance and only hesitated to whisper, “forgive me.”

Gwen stared after him in confusion. What in Thedas was going on? What did he need to be forgiven for?

Cassandra watched him go, frowning in irritation at his departing back.

“And people say _I’m_ stubborn,” she muttered. “This is ridiculous.”

“Cassandra, what’s going on?” Gwen asked.

“Cullen told you that he’s no longer taking lyrium,” Cassandra said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” Gwen replied. “We’ve talked about this. I agreed with his decision.”

“As do I,” Cassandra agreed. “Not that he’s willing to listen.”

She paused for a moment to look at the fire burning in the grate, a slight frown on her face.

“Cullen has asked that I find a replacement for him. I refused. It’s not necessary,” she said. “Besides, it would destroy him. He’s come so far.”

Gwen felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. Cullen wanted to quit the Inquisition? Did that mean he wanted to leave her?

 _Gwen, stop it,_ she thought. _This is about him, not you._

“Why didn’t he come to me?” she asked, forcing herself to remain calm.

“We had an agreement long before you joined us,” Cassandra explained. “As a Seeker, I could evaluated the dangers.”

“I know, but…” she said, still trying to grasp what was going on. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“He wouldn’t want to… risk your disappointment,” she said, before blushing as she looked away from Gwen.

Gwen scowled. Of course. That was just like Cullen.

“Is there anything we can do to change his mind?” she asked.

“If anyone could, it’s you,” Cassandra said softly. “Mages have made their suffering known, but templars never have. They are bound to the Order, mind and soul, with someone always holding their lyrium leash. Cullen has a chance to break that leash, to prove to himself—and to anyone who would follow suit—that it’s possible.”

“I agree,” Gwen said, trying to hide her worry. She knew if any templar could survive lyrium withdrawal, it was Cullen. But at what cost?

“I know he _can_ do this,” Cassandra insisted. “I knew that when we met in Kirkwall.”

She stepped forward then, and took Gwen’s hand in hers.

“Talk to him,” she said. “Help him decide if now is the time.”

Gwen took a deep breath.

“I will,” she said, hoping that Cassandra was right. She’d been so distracted the past few weeks...

Relief spread across Cassandra’s face.

“Thank you,” she said. “I know you’ve been struggling–”

“It’s fine, Cassandra,” Gwen said with a smile. She couldn’t fix what had happened and Gwen was starting to find it a little trying.

“I just meant… I’m sorry. I’m not good at leaving things alone when I see a problem,” Cassandra said. “After what I heard, I wanted to try to fix things, but now I realize that was more to make myself feel better, than help you.”

“It’s alright, Cass,” Gwen said. “I know you were coming from a good place. Somethings just can’t be fixed, though.”

“I see that now,” Cassandra said. “And I’m sorry for trying.”

“It’s forgiven,” Gwen said, managing a smile. “I better get going.”

Cassandra smiled gratefully at Gwen before walking away. Once she was gone, Gwen looked up to the ceiling and muttered a prayer.

 _Please,_ she thought. _Maker, give me guidance. Help me know what is best for him._

She made her way back to Cullen’s office, trying to figure out a way to talk about to Cullen about the lyrium. The difficult thing was going to be not to push him over the edge. He needed to make the choice on his own, or it wouldn’t matter what she said.

Gwen made her way across the courtyard, hoping that it was not too late to convince Cullen to remain on his current course without the Lyrium. As she approached the door, she found it open.

Without a thought she stepped inside his office just as there was a loud cry of frustration and something flew past her, slamming against the wall.

Startled, Gwen jumped back just as she heard Cullen's worried exclamation, "Maker's breath, I didn't hear you enter!"

Her heart pounded in her chest, and it took several seconds to make herself calm down.

 _It’s alright,_ she thought. _He wasn’t aiming at you intentionally. Just make a joke and it will be fine._

Taking a deep breath, Gwen gave a little shake of her head, "So long as you weren't aiming at me. I'm sure the box had it coming."

It was an attempt to put him at ease, but Cullen still looked frantic as he spoke. He’d clearly seen her reaction to the box.

"I swear I didn't-”

He stumbled, grunting in pain. Gwen started to moved towards him, but Cullen held up his hand to stop her. Reluctantly, she remained where she was.

“I’m sorry… I never meant for this to interfere,” he said wearily.

Her heart jumped to her throat. Even in the dim light of Cullen's office she could see how unwell he really was. He barely seemed able to stand with the pain. She wasn’t sure if it was the lyrium, or something else that was making him ill, but she was worried. Still, she had to remain calm.

"I know,” she said, gently. “Are you going to be alright?"

"Yes," he said automatically, but then his face contorted in pain and he shook his head. "No."

He turned away.

Walking over to the narrow window behind his desk, he stared out of it. Gwen waited as he tried to collect himself. When Cullen finally spoke it sounded like he was barely holding himself together.

"You wanted to know what happened at Ferelden Circle. It was taken over by Abominations."

Gwen sucked in a startled breath, but Cullen was too distracted to notice. He still refused to look at her, his gaze wandering everywhere around the room except where she stood.

"The templars, my friends, were slaughtered."

Cullen stopped again, as if gathering his thoughts. Gwen stood there, waiting, a knot forming in her throat.

"I was tortured. The things… I-I'm sorry, I can't speak of it. I don’t even know how long they held me, but they tried to break my mind. And… how can you be the same person after that?"

When she didn’t answer, Cullen looked away from her. After a few moments, Cullen started speaking again, only this time, his voice sounded like iron.

"Still, I wanted to serve. They sent me to Kirkwall. I trusted my Knight-Commander and for what? Her fear of mages ended in madness. Kirkwall’s circle fell. Innocent people died in the streets. Can't you see why I want nothing to do with that life?"

Silence hung in the air, until finally, Gwen spoke.

"It wasn't your fault."

The words had just slipped out of her, but instead of comforting him, they seem to agitate more him and he pushed past her, still refusing to look at her.

"Don't! You of all people should be questioning what I've done."

Gwen pressed her lips together, holding back the response she wanted to say in protest. It would only make him more upset.

Now Cullen was pacing back and forth, and his agitation growing worse. It looked like he wanted to lash out at something, but she forced herself to stay still and listen.

"I thought this would be better. That I'd regain some control in my life. But these thoughts won't leave me! How much depends on our success? I swore myself to this cause! I will not give less to the Inquisition than I did the Chantry. I should be taking it!"

His hand flew out and punched the bookshelf, and Gwen winced. Cullen seemed to barely notice it.

He whispered, "I should be taking it."

 _This has gone on long enough_ Gwen thought, walking over to him. She knew that if she didn't intervene now he would talk himself into taking the lyrium, and she wasn't sure that was the right thing for him to do.

She walked over to him and place a hand on his shoulder as she asked, "This doesn't have to be about the Inquisition. Is this what you want?"

His body relaxed, and closing his eyes he said, "No. But these memories… if I cannot endure them..."

"You can," she said softly.

He finally looked at her, but he still seemed lost.

She gave him time, letting him look into her eyes as long as he needed. He searched them, as if trying to find another answer, but after a moment he lowered his head, looking down at the ground.

“Alright,” he said sighing.

Cullen walked back over to his desk, and started throwing papers into different piles. Gwen walked over and picked up the contents of his phylactery, placing them back in the box. She walked back over to him, still holding it in her hands.

“I can take this with me if you want,” she said.

“I… no,” he replied. He took the box, opened a drawer, and threw it underneath a stack of papers. He looked angry, but whether it was at himself or her, Gwen wasn’t sure.

“I need some time alone,” he said, flatly.

“You know where I am if you need me,” she said, and started to walk out the door when Cullen spoke.

“Gwen...”

She turned to face him, trying to smile. He watched her for a moment before shaking his head helplessly.

“You… you deserve-”

"I deserve to make my own choices," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. After a moment she continued, "Neither of us are in the right place to have this conversation. Take some time for yourself, Cullen. Give yourself that."

He looked away from her, his shame clear to see. It hurt to think that even after all this time, he doubted her choice. She considered telling him of her own troubles, letting him know that they weren’t so different, but thought better of it.

She walked out, closing the door behind her.

Once the door to Cullen’s office was shut Gwen leaned against the stone wall and took a deep breath. She looked up at the clear blue sky above her, a sight that normally gave her comfort. But this time, she couldn’t help but notice it was the same color as lyrium. Lyrium, a necessity for templars, but the side effects... Maker, had she made the right choice?

She walked away from Cullen’s office, wishing to put some distance between herself and the scene she had just witnessed. She needed to process not just what had happened, but also what Cullen had told her.

Almost since they had first met, Gwen had known that Cullen was haunted by what had happened to him at Kinloch Hold. She had assumed that mages had been involved, but she never would have imagined abominations taking over a whole circle. And to survive that...

She couldn’t have blamed him if he still hated mages. Her own experiences had lead her to be mistrustful of most people in general, until fairly recently.

But now it brought up another question for her: this relationship with Cullen.

There was no escaping the fact that they both had suffered from traumatic experiences, and she wondered if it was best for them to simply be friends.

Just the thought of separating from him felt like a stab to her heart. She’d been with men before and left without a thought, but the mere thought of leaving Cullen made her heart ache.

_I need to go somewhere else. Someplace where I can think clearly._

She headed straight for her room ignoring everyone else in the Great Hall.

Once she was in her room, she walked over to the balcony that overlooked the courtyard, leaning heavily on the railing.

 _Maker,_ she thought, _did I do the right thing?_

She watched as the people who had come to Skyhold milled about below. She saw Sera sneaking around, and Bull working on a training exercise with Krem. It was a comforting sight. She smiled as Sera laughed when Krem and Bull’s shields became stuck together. At least some things hadn’t changed.

In fact, what had really changed between her and Cullen? She’d said so herself, before the battle at Adamant that she cared for Cullen despite his past. Had that changed?

No. He was still the same man she’d come to care for, she just understood his pain better. Despite what Cullen thought, she still wanted to be with him.

As for her own troubles, she couldn’t deny that Cullen being there had made a huge difference. She still remembered the warmth of his arms around her. Had he even slept that night, or had he just stayed awake to make sure she was alright? Either way, she was grateful for him being there. And she couldn't deny that her heart had warmed even more to him.

Was that what everyone experienced when they were in love?

She couldn’t answer that. Her emotions were still all over the place. Yet her heart ached at the thought of losing him, and that was something. She’d never felt that way about anyone before.    

That alone was enough for her to know that at least on her end, she was going to fight for them. Unless Cullen truly pushed her away, she would offer what she could of her heart.

With that thought she went to her closet and searched for the healer’s kit she’d compiled in a large blue bag. Once she found it, Gwen carried it to her desk. Inside was a collection of potion bottles, dried herbs, suture kit, and linen bandages.

She started picking out herbs, placing them in a small pouch that she’d sewed for the herbs. Once she was done, she tied off the pouch and headed over to her desk and grabbed a piece of parchment and wrote a message on it.

She’d leave it on his desk before she left. He’d asked for time and she was going to give it to him. That didn’t mean that she couldn’t do what she could to help him.

By the time she’d finished writing the note, night was starting to fall. Deciding it was best to wait until tomorrow, Gwen set the pouch down on her desk and made her way to the Great Hall.

She was still dealing with a lot of things, but Bull was right: the people needed her. And that meant for now, she needed to set aside her own problems, and be the Inquisitor.

 

* * *

 

 

As the morning light shone into Cullen’s room, he woke to find himself no better than the day before. His body was aching, and his shirt was drenched in a cold sweat. He’d been plagued the whole night with nightmares, giving him little rest.

He knew he was still unwell as he slowly sat up, but he ignored it. There was a meeting today and he needed to attend. Somehow, he managed to dress himself and stumble into the War Room.

All three women looked at him in surprise when they saw him. He was certain he must look terrible, but he ignored their looks. Gwen pursed her lips, but said nothing.

He was grateful, certain that he would only have snapped at her if she had.

All through the meeting, Cullen struggled to concentrate. Frequently, sentences had to be repeated to him.

When the meeting ended, Gwen walked over to him, and stood beside him.

“I thought you were taking the day off,” she said.

“It’s just a meeting,” he said flatly. “I figured I was well enough for that.”

Gwen pressed her lips together again. It didn’t take much for Cullen to guess her thoughts, though.

“Gwen, I’m fine. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t,” he said irritably.

“You’re pale, and you still look like you haven’t slept,” she said, placing her hand on her hips. “If you keep this up, you’ll run yourself into the ground.”

“I’m fine!” he said, slamming his final report on the top of his pile of paperwork.

Immediately, he regretted it. He could tell by the way Gwen grimaced that he'd upset her.

“Gwen, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” he said.

Gwen gathered up her paperwork, and sighed.

“You don’t have to prove anything, Cullen. Not to me,” she said. “I understand a lot better than you think.”

She headed over to the door and walked out. Cullen wanted to follow after her and apologize, but at this point he wasn’t sure what good it would do.

Ever since Adamant, things were falling apart for them. He was losing her, and he knew it more with each passing day.

Burning anger boiled up within his chest, and he knocked the nearest tankard off the table with a roar of frustration.

“Cullen?”

He looked up and saw Josephine standing in the doorway.

“Sorry,” he snapped. He leaned down and picked up the tankard and placed it on the table with a deep breath and tried again. “I’m… having a bad day.”

“I see,” she said, stepping in. “Does it have to do with the Inquisitor?”

“No,” Cullen replied. “At least, not directly.”

She hesitated for a moment, as if she wasn’t sure what to say.

“She cares about you,” she finally said. “She's worried.”

He didn't look at her. Josephine came around the table, and reached out to touch him, but Cullen raised his hand to stop her.

“Don’t,” he said, and grabbed his paperwork.

Heading out to his office, Cullen only paused for a moment in the Great Hall and tried to see if Gwen was there. She wasn’t. Trying to ignore the knot forming in his throat, Cullen headed across the bridge to his office.

As he put down his paperwork on his desk, Cullen noted that there was a note underneath a small pouch of herbs. When he lifted it up, he recognized Gwen’s handwriting. Setting aside the pouch , Cullen opened the note, and read it.

_My Lion,_

_I thought this might help you. I’ve used this on the nights when my own horrors become too real for me. It’s a brew that relieves anxiety and let’s you sleep without dreams, and I thought you could use it. It was a common remedy used at Ostwick for templars and mages that struggled with nightmares._

_And know that you're stronger than you think, my Lion._

_Please take care of yourself._

_Fondly,_

_Gwen_

Cullen stare at the note as he felt tears build up in his eyes. He quickly wiped them away, but his throat was constricted with the effort to hold back his tears. He couldn’t believe after all he’d done, she’d done this for him.

Taking a shaky breath, Cullen examined the bag of herbs more closely. It was just a small amount that would probably only get him through a week, but he was grateful for the thought. But it also pointed out to him how much stronger she was than him.

She’d clearly been hurt during the battle at Adamant, and yet, here she was, looking out for him. Bringing him tea to help him sleep, giving him the strength to continue on without lyrium, and not holding what he’d done over him. And all he’d done was spend one night in the same tent as her, to make sure that the nightmares were kept at bay.

Not for the first time, Cullen found himself wondering why, of all the people in Thedas, she’d chosen him.

He looked at the paperwork, tempted to work through it, but he could already feel a headache. There was no way he’d be able to work, and the thought of the clanging swords made his headache worse. Whatever he’d wanted, there was no way he’d be able to do work today. But neither was he able to rest. Not now at least. He’d have to try calm himself down first.

In the end, he chose to walk in the gardens. It didn’t take away the pain, or keep back the panic he felt, but moving did keep him distracted. Gwen had turned the garden into a place where the healers collect the herbs they needed and the sweet smells of the plants and flowers were calming.

As he walked around Cullen saw Mother Giselle come walking towards him, a serene smile on her face. He stopped and gave her a slight nod of respect, and she responded with the same nod.

“Good day, Commander,” she said, “I don’t normally see you here. Is there a particular reason for your visit today?"

"I… um...no?" Cullen responded. "I was just looking for some quite."

"I see. If you’d like, I would be willing to play a round of chess with you. I hear you are one of the best in Skyhold,” Mother Giselle replied, swinging her arm to direct him toward the small awning in the garden. Nervously, Cullen reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of how to respond to her offer.

“I’m not exactly on top of my game, Mother,” he finally responded.

“Then I shall have a chance of making the game a challenge for you, Commander.”

Seeing no other recourse, Cullen followed her to the awning. She offered him the choice of which side to play. He pointed to the black, she set up the board and then let her make the first move, all in silence.

“So how is our leader doing these days?” Mother Giselle asked, taking care to look pointedly at the board. “I hear Adamant was difficult for her.”

He didn’t answer right away, but instead pretended like he was thinking of his move. After moving one of his pawns he leaned back in his chair, but still did not look at her.

“She’s...doing better. We haven’t talked much recently,” he finally said.

“I’m glad to hear it. We spoke earlier and it seemed to me that she didn’t find comfort in the knowledge that the mark was not from the Blessed Andraste. Even though she doubted it herself,” Mother Giselle replied, moving her knight out of the way so she could castle her rook and king next move.

Cullen moved a pawn to free up his cleric and his knight as he said, “Gwen’s always believed in the Maker, even after Corypheus told her that he was the source for the mark, she still thought it might be part of the Maker’s plan.”

“But even though we have faith, we sometimes have a hard time believing in ourselves, do we not, Commander?" she said, finally looking at him.

“I didn’t come here to confess Revered Mother.”

“I know. Part of a priestess job is not just to offer advice when her flock asks of it, but to know when they need aid but do not ask,” she replied, finally moving her king and her rook. “If you like, we can leave the game here and not discuss anything. Or, we can stay. The choice is yours.”

Cullen thought for a moment about leaving. He certainly was in no mood to do any soul searching. But the thought of wandering Skyhold, trying to find something to distract him, did not seem any more appealing.

“I figure we can at least finish this game,” he said, moving one of his clerics, threatening one of the Mother’s knight between the cleric and a pawn. The Mother saw her mistake and moved the knight out of danger.

They said nothing for a few moves, concentrating on the game until Cullen finally asked, “What makes you think that I’m questioning myself?”

“I think everyone is questioning themselves, Commander. From what I heard, Adamant was quite troubling. And the thing about demons, is that they expose the worst in us, even if it is not technically true.”

Cullen hung his head at her words, unable to look at Mother Giselle.

“I came into the tent after the battle, and… I’ve never seen her in such a state,” he said. “It was clear that she’d been hurt, and all I could do was be there, and hold her. I felt useless.”

“You say that like every monster must be killed with the sword, when it’s the farthest from the truth,” Mother Giselle said. “Lady Trevelyan strikes me as a woman who’s seen terrible things, and while she bears it well, in the Fade, those things become amplified. You being there might have made the difference between her carrying on, or giving into despair.”

Cullen said nothing in response, not sure if he believed her. He looked at few other people in the garden. They looked so peaceful, so happy, and Cullen found himself wishing he could be at peace like them.

“I told her everything I’d done,” he said, finally giving the mother a side look. “You know what she said? ‘It’s not your fault.’ She think’s I’m a better man than I actually am.”

Mother Giselle leaned back and looked a Cullen, her head resting in her hand, thinking. Cullen moved another chess piece, taking one of her rooks. As he removed the piece, Mother Giselle finally spoke.

“During my time as a Revered Mother, I find that what most people tend to struggle with, is not to forgive others, but to forgive themselves.”

“I don’t think this is as simple as you make it out to be,” Cullen replied, still not looking at her.

“I won’t pretend that you don’t have much to make up for your part in Kirkwall’s circle. But when you joined with the Champion over your Knight-Commander, you set yourself on the path of redemption. And it is because of your continued attempts to right the wrongs you’ve done that our Inquisitor has judged you to be a man of worth,” she said gently.

A knot formed in Cullen’s throat, but he finally looked up at her and said, "I can’t help but feel that she’s mistaken.”

“Is she mistaken about your motivations to stop taking lyrium? Your reason for joining the Inquisition? Or, is she mistaken in your feelings for her?”

“I… no,” Cullen said, and stopped, unsure of how to phrase his thoughts.

“She’s been through so much,” he finally said. “And not once has she let that make her bitter towards the world. And given what I’ve done, who I am, I’m not sure I’m worthy of her.”

“Who made you the one to judge who or what you are worthy of, Commander?” Mother Giselle said sternly. “You are not the Maker, and only He can decide what you deserved. He brought you two together, and from what I have seen, you’ve both been happier for it.”

“And what if I fail her?” Cullen asked. “What if I’m not able to be the man she needs.”

“You will only fail if you give up,” Mother Giselle said. “You need to forgive yourself Commander, and realize that you are allowed to be happy. From what I’m hearing, that is all that is holding you back.”

Cullen hesitated, thinking over the Reverend Mother’s words.

“I don't know if I can,” he admitted.

Mother Giselle smiled sadly at him.

“It is perhaps the harder thing to do,” she said. “But take it one step at a time. As for the Inquisitor, I know that she still cares for you and told me of what happened in the tent and how much comfort it was to her. And like you, she’s only concerned about your happiness.”

Despite his agitation, Cullen’s chest filled with warmth towards Gwen, but it was quickly taken over by guilt for how he’d acted towards her.

“Given how I’ve behaved towards her, she shouldn’t,” he said.

“We all behave badly when we’re upset,” Mother Giselle said. “If you feel you must, apologize, and take the time to get well. We need your strength.”

She stood up, leaving the game unfinished. Cullen sat, staring that the board. Mother Giselle and Gwen were right. He was in no state to be of any use. He couldn’t even remember the last night he’d had an uninterrupted night of sleep. It would be best if he drank that tea Gwen had left him and sleep.

But he also needed to talk to Gwen, apologize to her for his behavior, but he was still too agitated, and exhausted to talk to her without getting upset again.

 _If I take it now, I should be awake in time to speak with Gwen before she leaves,_ he thought, looking up at the setting sun.

He had no idea what he was going to say. He was still embarrassed that he’d lost it in front of Gwen like that, but he didn’t want to leave things as they were with her.

Heading down to the kitchens, he asked the cook for a kettle of hot water and a strainer. She handed them to him with a smile and he thanked her. When he returned to his room, he removed his plate armor, and drank the tea.

The tea was bittersweet, and Cullen grimaced at the taste. He drank it all, however, before he climbed up the ladder leading to his room. By the time he reached the top, he could already feel the brew taking effect. He sat down on the bed and removed his boots.

He knew that he should take off his shirt at least, but he looked at his pillow and couldn’t help but notice how soft it looked. His body began to feel heavy, and by the time he laid on the bed he felt like he was floating on the air. Whatever was in the tea, it worked.

That was the last thing he thought before he fell asleep.

Cullen woke to the bright sunlight shining in through the holes in his ceiling. He really needed to get that roof fixed.

As soon as that thought passed through his mind, his heart stopped. He looked up at the sky and realized that it was late morning. How long had he slept?

He got out of bed quickly and started to dress when he saw a note on the bedside table. Picking it up, he read it’s contents.

_Commander,_

_You were so deeply asleep, that I thought it was best if I took over training this morning. The Inquisitor said it was best if I let you rest._

_As soon as you’re ready, come see me._

_Cassandra_

If Cassandra had the time to train the soldiers, Gwen was already gone.

His heart sank. It had been early enough in the evening that he’d thought he’d have time to talk to Gwen before she left. However, clearly he’d slept longer than he’d thought.

Trying to swallow his disappointment, Cullen dressed before heading down to see Cassandra. Like always, she was at one of the dummies, hitting it with her sword. As soon as she saw Cullen, she stopped.

“How are you?” she asked.

“Fine,” Cullen replied. “Is the Inquisitor gone?”

“Yes,” she said. “She wanted to get halfway down the mountain by the end of the day. I’ll be meeting her with Solas in the Dales.”

“She’s taking Solas?” Cullen said, puzzled.

“He was getting anxious about his friend,” she said. “She thought it was best since the Emerald Graves are so close.”

“This is going to be a long trip then?” he said, hoping he was wrong.

“Yes, didn’t she tell you that at the meeting?” Cassandra asked.

“Perhaps, I was a bit… distracted yesterday,” Cullen replied “I knew she had a few places she wanted to go, I just didn't realize how long of a journey.”

“Speaking of being distracted, how are you?” she asked. “You look better than the other day.”

“I’m fine, Cass,” Cullen replied. “I’m staying off the lyrium.”

“I’m glad,” Cassandra replied. “I know things have been difficult since Adamant, but I know you can do this.”

Cullen tried to smile, but it was a grimace. What he wanted to do was talk to Gwen, but she was miles away by now.

Cassandra was about to speak when Ser Barris and a templar that Cullen didn’t recognize approached.

“Excuse me, Commander,” Ser Barris said, bowing to him briefly. “I know you don’t normally deal with new recruits, but I think this might be a special situation.”

“How so?” Cullen asked, wondering what could make this templar so special.

Before Ser Barris could answer, the other templar stepped forward.

“My name is Gregory Williams. I was a templar at Ostwick circle and I was hoping to speak with the Inquisitor,” he said.

Cullen felt like an icy knife slid into him, and he barely kept his composure as he asked, “Why? What is your connection to her?”

“The Inquisitor and I have history,” he said. “I was stationed at Ostwick circle, and… we’re lovers.”


	27. Jealousy

When Gregory Williams had announced that he was the templar that had saved Gwen from the circle tower, Cullen felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. Somehow, he managed to hide his distress from Ser Barris and Williams as he listened to Williams’s recount of the collapse of Ostwick circle. Everything that Gwen had told him about Williams matched up, the only difference being that Williams had survived his wounds. Afterwards, apparently, had tried to pick up Gwen’s trail, but the war had prevented him from finding her.

Cullen had supposed that Williams surviving what Gwen described was possible, but he was determined to have Leliana check out his story. It seemed too much of a coincidence that Williams had survived the encounter given the wounds Gwen had described.  

It had to be.

Unfortunately, Leliana had found otherwise.

 _“I’m sorry,”_ Leliana had said, _“but from what I can find, Ser Williams is who he says he is. And Lady Trevelyan sent a raven saying that based upon the description Cassandra gave, it’s him.”_

 _“You’re sure?_ ” Cullen asked. _“Gwen’s description is coming to us second-hand. For all we know he could be someone trying to get close to Gwen to hurt her.”_

 _“I’ve checked everything, Cullen,”_ Leliana said. _“If he’s lying, he’s covered his tracks well, and I’m not sure he has the intelligence to. Unless Lady Trevelyan tells us otherwise, we have to assume he’s who he says he is.”_

After that, Cullen reluctantly let his objections die. He couldn’t send him away until Gwen had confirmed his identity in person, and despite Cullen’s best attempts to avoid him, Williams seemed to pop up everywhere. He’d tolerated it, sensing that Williams was only wanting news of Gwen, but then Williams had found out that Cullen and Gwen were courting.

It had been stupid how it had happened, since his discovery of their relationship could’ve so easily been avoided.

Cullen had made it clear to Williams that he was not supposed to share his history with Gwen with anyone without the Inquisitor’s permission. At first, Williams followed the order and had kept quiet. At least, until he and Leliana had told Williams that for the time being there was no reason to doubt his identity. After that, he seemed unable to keep his mouth shut.

Williams had started talking with his fellows about his love for Gwen. One of the soldiers had started laughing, and told Williams was a fool if he thought the Inquisitor was going to leave the Commander for a lowly recruit. The soldier’s ridicule was unsurprising, but Williams hadn’t taken it well.

Furious, he’d attacked the soldier, only stopping when Ser Lynette and Ser Barris pulled him off.

Now, Williams was standing in front of him, after having sharpened half the swords in the armory on Ser Barris’ orders. Cullen had almost been willing to let it go, not wanting to raise the animosity between them, but the scuffle had been too public. Williams was still covered in dirt and sporting a bloody nose.

Cullen didn't even look up from the report from Sers Barris and Lynette as he asked, “Ser Williams, can you explain why you went against my express orders to keep your past relationship with the Inquisitor quiet?”

“At the time, I didn’t realize Gwen had been courting you, _Commander_ ,” Williams spat out.

Cullen forced himself to take a deep breath before answering.

“The last time I checked, I was not required to share the details of my personal life with my soldiers,” he said cooly. “A practice you might want to do yourself. Especially since I _ordered_ you to do so.”

Williams’ hands tightened into fists, “Do you not think that I see what you are doing? You’re trying to keep her away from me. Admit it—you’re afraid that I’ll take her away from you!”

“Ser Williams,” Cullen said stiffly. “I’ll remind you that Lady Trevelyan is _not_ a circle mage anymore. She’s the Inquisitor, one of the most powerful women in Thedas, while you are a lowly recruit. Until she states to you otherwise, you will not speak of her in such a disrespectful manner. If you don’t, I shall be forced to take action.”

“You can’t–”

“Yes, I can,” Cullen said sternly. “And if you don’t show the Inquisitor more respect than you have thus far, I will take this matter to Lady Nightingale. So I suggest you keep your mouth shut.”

Williams glowered at him, and for a moment, Cullen thought that he might come at him. He’d welcome it.

Williams, however, seemed not to care.

“You don’t love her. Not really. You love the _noble_ ,” Williams snarled. “You talk about Gwen like she’s a cold, calculating bitch. But I can assure you, Commander, she’s nothing like that. You’ll see that, when she returns and has a chance to be with those who truly know her.”

“No, she isn’t a noble in that way,” Cullen said. “She’s a kind, caring woman who deserves your respect, respect which for some unfathomable reason you seem determined not to show her.”

For the first time, Williams looked away. His jaw tightened as he looked at the floor and after a long moment, he finally spoke.

“Fine,” he said gruffly. “But only out of my love for Gwen. When she returns though, I will no longer hold my tongue.”

Cullen dismissed him, feeling certain that if Williams stayed there any longer, he would lose his calm.

Williams stormed out of his office, slamming the door behind him. As soon as the door shut, Cullen leaned on his desk. His arms were shaking with the rage building up inside him.

It had been a long time since someone had gotten under his skin like that. Williams’ stubborn, naive insistence that he knew and loved Gwen more than he had made Cullen want to put his fist through the recruit’s teeth.

Maker, what had possessed Gwen to court such a hot-headed ass?

And there was the heart of it. Cullen had no idea why Gwen had courted him, but she must’ve seen _something_ in him. For all his ignorance, Williams was clearly still in love with Gwen and if she returned his feelings it wasn’t like they couldn’t raise him to her inner circle if she wished.

Yet the thought of losing Gwen made him want to violently rearrange his face.

No, he wouldn’t stoop to Williams level. He was the Commander of the Inquisition and would to act like it until Gwen returned with her answer.

This proved easier said than done.

Williams, at best, towed the line. He didn’t go about announcing to the Inquisition that he and Gwen had courted, but it didn’t stop him from finding other ways to challenge Cullen. At first, it was little things, like not immediately following orders after they were given. Once, when Cullen had tried to correct a training formation Williams was practicing, he attacked Cullen more vigorously than was required. Cullen had defended himself with ease, but there was no mistaking the glaring hatred in his eyes.

The worst was yet to come, though. A week after their discussion in his office, Williams found out about the dispute between the Commander and the Inquisitor.

Cullen happened to be walking by with Dorian as one of the soldiers told Williams, “And when the Inquisitor left the Commander’s office, she was very upset.”

Cullen hadn’t realized that Gwen had been upset after he’d told her about Ferelden circle, and the realization of it stung. What made it worse though was Williams’ comment afterwards.

“Really? Everyone makes it sound like the two are terribly in love. Are the rumors wrong?”

“Every relationship has their ups and downs,” the soldier said. “Up until then they seemed steady, but I haven’t heard anything to suggest they’ve ended things.”

“Still,” Williams said. “Not as solid a couple as some might have you believe.”

Cullen would’ve turned right then and there and thrown Williams to the ground had Dorian not grabbed hold of him.

“He’d baiting you, Cullen,” Dorian had said. “Just ignore it.”

But he couldn’t ignore it. He’d not heard from Gwen in weeks, and his tolerance for Williams’ insubordination was waning. He’d hoped to when Dorian returned early that he’d have a message from her, but Gwen had sent no word.

“Honestly, Cullen,” Dorian said as they sat with Blackwall at the Herald’s Rest later that evening. “I don’t think she thought she needed to say anything. She hasn’t seen Gregory in years, why would she suddenly go back to him?”

“Williams seems to think they’re in love,” Cullen muttered as he picked at his food.

“ _Williams_ is an idiot,” Dorian said. “Frankly, Cullen, even if this man saved her life, he’s an idiot. Gwen’s not exactly attracted to idiots.”

“I’m not sure that’s helping, Dorian. She did court Ser Williams,” Blackwall said. “But, Cullen, while you’re a bit of a fool around Lady Trevelyan, you’re more intelligent and got more to offer her than anything that lout could.”

“It’s not about what I could offer her, it’s about things I’ve done,” Cullen admitted. “I told her some things about my past and it upset her.”

“Cullen, she was dealing with a lot after Adamant and when we talked she was more concerned for you than angry or upset,” he said. “She’s been giving you space after you last talked because you asked her too, but she isn’t angry.”

Despite himself, Cullen felt a glimmer of hope inside him. “You’re sure?”

Dorian rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I’m sure,” he said.

“I think it would take a lot for Lady Trevelyan to stop caring for you,” Blackwall says. “Unlike others, she’s given second chances to people who other’s would’ve hanged or made tranquil. She believes in the best of people.”

“I know, but my actions, the things I condoned through my inaction at Kirkwall...,” Cullen admitted. “Is that really something someone should overlook?”

“You’re not the same man you were in Kirkwall, Cullen,” Dorian said. “Blight it, you’re not even the same man you were when this whole thing started.”

“Not to mention, that boy’s a delusional romantic,” Blackwall said. “A lot of the soldiers find him to be a bit of an arrogant prick, and keep hoping you’ll send him to the Western Approach.”

“I can’t send him anywhere until Gwen identifies him,” Cullen grumbled. “Although, I’ve been sorely tempted to. A couple of days in the hot sun might get him to shut up.”

“Maybe he’ll die of sunstroke,” Dorian suggested with a grin. Cullen glared at him.

“Alright, alright, it was just a thought,” Dorian said. “Frankly, I find the man insufferable. Why is it that men can’t take a hint when a woman is clearly not interested?”

“Because no man wants to let go of a beautiful women like Lady Trevelyan,” Blackwall said. “Do you know how many disappointed nobles there were when she started courting Cullen?”

“Oooh, no, how many?” Dorian asked, resting his head in his hand.

“Contrary to what you might think, this isn’t actually making me feel better,” Cullen said, glaring at Dorian. He took his tankard of beer and drank the last of it’s contents. Once he finished he stood up, and dropped a few coppers on the table.

“I’ve got work I’ve to do,” he said. “Thank you for the company.”

“If you need to hit something later, come talk to me,” Blackwall said. “Perhaps we can get Sera to dress a dummy up like Gregory.”

Despite himself, Cullen smiled.

“Thank you, Blackwall, but I’ll be fine,” he said. “Gwen comes back in a week, and we’ll sort things out then.”

And one way or the other, he’d have his answer.

 

* * *

 

 

When a horn blew, announcing Gwen’s return Cullen practically rushed out of his office, barely checking his paperwork before he left. Excitement and dread coursed through him as he approached the lower courtyard. This would be the moment when he’d know the truth, if he and Gwen were going to make it work, or if she’d choose Williams over him.

He stood there, watching from his usual spot at Gwen came riding in on Swiftfoot. The sight of her beautiful red hair radiating in the sunlight made him smile for the first time in weeks. She was back.

She looked around until her gaze fell on him, and she gave him a huge smile. For a brief moment, Cullen forgot his troubles as she dismounted and started to make her way towards him.

“Gwen!”

The irritatingly familiar voice broke through Cullen’s thought, bringing him back to reality.

He watched as Gwen turned to Williams pushing through the crowd. “Gregory?”

She smiled at him as Williams trotted over to her, his arms open wide. Cullen’s heart sank.

He turned away, not wanting to watch their happy reunion.

“Cullen, wait!”

He stopped, afraid to turn around as he heard approaching footsteps. He didn’t dare breathe as he waited.

“Where are you going?” Gwen asked as she walked up beside him.

“I… have some work to get done,” he said clumsily. It was a pathetic excuse, but at this point he just wanted to get out of that court yard.

“Can it wait? I was hoping we could talk.”

“I, ah… sure, it can wait,” he said his heart beating faster. Gwen was about to respond when Williams stepped forward and spoke up.

“Gwen, I thought you’d want to spend time together,” Williams said, his eyes wide with shock. “Don’t you think you could put off work until later?”

Cullen gritted his teeth with the effort to not punch Williams in the face.

“I have a personal matter to discuss with the Commander,” Gwen said. “We can talk after.”

“Oh, I mean… if that’s what you want,” Gregory said.

“It’s what the Inquisitor wants, Ser Williams,” Cullen snapped. Immediately, Gregory looked up and glared at him.

“I was talking to the Inquisitor, not you, Commander,” he replied. Cullen felt his hand tighten on the hilt of his sword, noting that Gregory had done the same. Before either of them could react further, Gwen stepped between them.

“Oh for Andraste’s sake! Both of you let go of your swords,” she said. “You’re acting like children.”

Reluctantly, Cullen did as she asked, not dropping his gaze from Williams. Williams glared back at him with just as much hatred Cullen felt, but also let his hand drop from his sword. Gwen looked between the two of them for a moment, and then rolled her eyes.

“Have you two been fighting ever since I left?”

To Cullen’s satisfaction, Williams blushed and looked down at the ground. The victory was short lived, however, as Gwen’s gaze turned on him.

“Cullen?” she asked.

“It’s nothing, Inquisitor,” he mumbled.

“Clearly, it’s not,” Gwen said. “You two look like you’re ready to go for each other’s throats.”

Cullen didn’t respond, not wanting to confirm or deny the truth of the matter. Gwen wasn’t fooled for a minute though.

She sighed and shook her head before turned to Williams. “Maker’s Breath. Gregory, since I’m sure this has to do with our past, I should tell you that I don’t consider us lovers any longer.”

If it hadn’t been for Williams’ insufferable attitude, Cullen might’ve felt sorry for him. He certainly looked like he’d been slapped in the face.

“You mean, you’re choosing him?” Williams asked, pointing to Cullen.

Gwen pressed her lips together before answering.

“I mean, we’re done,” she said.

“I can’t believe it. I searched the world for you!” Williams shouted. “I came here looking for you!”

“Maybe you should’ve written to her first before coming up here. Found out if she still wanted to be with you,” Cullen said, unable to keep his mouth shut. “If that was your purpose in coming, then leave. We can’t house anyone who isn’t part of the Inquisition.”

“Cullen,” Gwen admonished, and turned back to Williams. “I thought you were dead. Did you really expect me to wait around for a ghost?”

“You didn’t know I was dead.”

“You were cut down by another templar, what was I supposed to think?” Gwen asked. “I’m sorry that it’s turned out like this, but I don’t love you. I’m not sure I ever did.”

Williams’ face was flushed with anger, his gaze turned on Cullen.

“So you’re leaving me, for him?” Williams asked, pointing at him. “Do you have any idea of the things he’s been part of? I’ve read the reports, Gwen!”

Cullen’s jaw tightened, and his hand gripped his sword hilt again when Gwen laid a hand on his. When she spoke, her tone was soft.

“Yes, I’m well aware of what he’s been part of,” she said. “That doesn’t change that I don’t love you. You don’t even know me.”

“We’ve known each other for years!” he protested.

“No, we don’t,” Gwen said. “When did we ever talk about things we liked? Or actually shared anything about our lives? We’re complete strangers, Gregory.”

Williams actually drooped. For a brief moment, Cullen felt bad for him. Gwen was being gentle as she could be, but if she’d been saying those things to him, it still would’ve hurt.

Suddenly, Williams’ head snapped up, and his gaze was full of anger as he glared at Cullen.

“You!” he snarled. “You took her from me!”

He charged at Cullen, fists raised. There was power in the swing, he was sure, but Cullen had just spent the past year fighting Red Templar rogues. He was well adept at dodging fast blows by now. Cullen ducked the blow and landed a solid punch to Williams’ smug face, knocking him to the ground.

“Cullen!” Gwen scolded as she leaned down to look at Williams. His nose was broken, and he was blinking in dazed surprise at the sky.

“Don’t get too angry at him, my dear,” Dorian said, sauntering over to them. “He’s been wanting to do that for weeks. I think he contained himself rather well, all considered.”

Dorian leaned over Williams, taking a look at him.

“Well, you’ll live,” he said. “I suggest we let the Commander and the Inquisitor have some time alone and see if the healer’s can’t fix that broken nose of yours.”

He helped Williams up, and started to lead him away.

Williams looked back at Gwen, though, “I still love you. And despite what you say, I think you do, too. I’ll just have to remind you.”

“Trust me, Ser Williams,” Dorian said with a rueful grin and a headshake. “You’re way out of your league.”

When they were gone, Gwen turned to Cullen, her arms folded and glaring at him.

“Maker’s Breath, Cullen,” she said. “Was that really necessary?”

“I’m sorry, I just… reacted,” Cullen said, feeling himself blush. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Gwen shook her head.

“Nevermind, what’s done is done. I suggest you go cool off before we talk,” she said, rubbing her temples. “I need to stable Swiftfoot before Master Dennet has a fit. Can we meet in our usual spot in half an hour?”

“Yes, of course,” Cullen said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s fine,” she said. “Just, promise me no more violence, no matter how much Gregory might deserve it.”

Cullen scowled, but nodded. At this point, he wasn’t confident where he stood with Gwen, and didn’t want to give her any more reason to end things with him.

“Alright,” Gwen said. “I’ll see you soon.”

She reached out and briefly touched his arm. He felt sparks where she’d touched him. When she left to return to Swiftfoot, Cullen took a deep breath.

Maker, he’d enjoyed that punching that insufferable bastard.

 

* * *

 

 

Cullen was grateful for the time he had to gather his thoughts. While having a final resolution to the question that had driven him mad for weeks, he needed the time to cool down. He didn’t want to risk taking any residual anger out on Gwen. Whatever happened, he wanted to at least let Gwen know what she’d done for him and how much he appreciated that. He stared over the battlements, formulating his thoughts when he heard Gwen’s soft footsteps behind him. Turning, he tried to smile as he began to say what he’d been practicing for the past several minutes.

“I wanted to thank you. When you came to see me… If you ever… This sounded much better in my head.”

Completely embarrassed, Cullen looked away, rubbing his neck. Gwen ignored his embarrassment, and stepped a little closer to him, reaching out to gently touch his arm.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked, all signs of irritation gone from her voice.

“I… yes.”

He hadn’t expected her to be this kind after how he’d behaved in the courtyard.

“Is it always that bad?” she asked.

“The pain comes and goes,” he admitted. “Sometimes I feel as if I’m back there… I should not have pushed myself so far that day.”

“I’m just glad you’re alright,” Gwen said. She smiled, but it didn’t touch the concerned look in her eyes.

He hadn’t realized he’d worried her that much.

“I am,” he assured her, walking back over to the ramparts.

Even though Gwen already knew the details, he still didn’t feel like he could look her in they eye. He hated how he’d behaved towards her before she left, and after her return. Yet, he needed her to know everything about how he felt. There would be no holding back now.

“I never told anyone what truly happened to me at Ferelden Circle,” he said. “I was… not myself after that. I was angry. For years, that anger blinded me. I’m not proud of the man that made me.”

He paused for a moment, and looked down at the ground. He had now come to the hard part. He didn’t want to admit it to her, but she had the right to know.

“The way I saw mages…” he continued. “I’m not sure I would have cared about you, and the thought of that _sickens_ me.”

He almost whispered the last part, his shame almost overpowering his will to tell her and he looked away. Gwen stepped closer to him, and when he looked at her there was sympathy in her gaze. Somehow, that gave him courage to go on.

“Now I can put some distance between myself and everything that happened,” he continued. “It's a start.”

“For what it’s worth,” Gwen said after a silent pause. “I like who you are now.”

“Even after–,” he began, but Gwen reached out and touched his arm.

“Cullen, I care about you. You've done nothing to change that.”

At first, he couldn’t believe what she was saying, then a warmth filled Cullens chest. In that moment he knew there wasn’t any woman he’d love as much as her.

He reached out and took her hand smiling at her.

“What about you?” he asked. “How are you holding up?”

She took a deep breath, and her own gaze wandered to the mountain range.

“The truth is,” she said. “I'm terrified. Corypheus is still out there. So much depends upon us. Upon me.”

“Gwen,” he replied, his hand tightening on hers. “We've made great strides. Don’t doubt yourself or the Inquisition just yet.”

He reached up and pushed back the strand of hair that always fell into her face. She smiled at his touch. Maker, how much he’d missed that smile.

“I suppose if I can handle two jealous templars, I can handle anyone, even Corypheus,” she teased.

Cullen blushed, and started to rub his neck again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, still blushing with embarrassment. “I wish you hadn’t seen that. I just… I thought that…”

Chuckling, Gwen said, “Let me guess, you thought I was going to go back to Gregory?”

Cullen looked away sheepishly as he asked, “What gave it away?”

“Cassandra and Solas might’ve mentioned that you and Gregory were being rather aggressive with each other,” Gwen said in amusement. “I probably should’ve written to one or both of you, but I thought it might be better if it was handled in person.”

“I’ll admit, I was thinking of writing to you,” Cullen confessed.

Gwen looked at him in surprise.

“You were thinking of writing to me? Maker, you must’ve been fretting if you were thinking of writing a letter,” Gwen teased. “My Lion, do you really think I would’ve changed my feelings so quickly for a man I haven’t seen in years?”

Shaking his head, Cullen looked down at the ground, “Well, when you say it like that, I feel a bit like a fool.”

“Sometimes you can be,” she agreed fondly. “But you’re my fool.”

She leaned up kissed him gently. She barely gave him a few fluttering kissed when she parted her lips and sucked on his lower lip. Cullen moaned and cupping her head in his hands, he opened his mouth to deepen their kiss. When they broke apart for air, she was still smiling.

Cullen cupped her cheek in his hand, and she leaned into it, but after a moment, her smile faltered.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. She tried to smile again, but it was more of a grimace.

“Sorry, I just… I wanted to thank you for Adamant,” she said. “I was… messed up after what happened in the Fade.”

“It was nothing,” Cullen said. “I wasn’t even sure if I was doing the right thing. I just didn’t want to leave you alone.”

“You made all the difference,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “The guilt I felt after… you helped it not hurt as much.”

“You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, Gwen,” he said. He’d hoped it would make her feel better, but she only managed a small smile.

“That’s not true,” she said. “What I am… it’s gotten people I care about hurt.”

“You mean you’ve hurt someone with your magic?” he asked, wondering where this was going.

“No,” Gwen said. “At least, not directly. Someone… someone who I thought cared about me…”

She looked away.

“Let’s just say, I understand what you went through in Kinloch Hold a lot better than you think,” she said quietly. “Lydia tried to protect me, but…. The circle…. She couldn’t…”

Cullen’s jaw tightened. He could see that Gwen was getting upset, and he gently pulled her towards him.

“Just answer me. Was it a templar or a mage?” he asked, dreading the answer. Dorian had said it wasn’t a templar, but he had to be sure.

She shook her head, “Neither. It was someone outside the circle who hated magic. I’m sorry. I’d thought after all this time I could talk about it, but I can’t. Maybe I could if the Nightmare hadn’t...”

She turned away again.

“I understand,” he said. “The only thing I want to know is if this person can still hurt you?”

She hesitated, thinking things over before she answered.

“I... don’t think so,” she said. “Not easily, but I’ll let you know, if that changes.”

“Alright,” he said. He wasn’t sure if it was the best idea to not get more details on this person, but he also wanted to give her the chance to share when she was ready. She’d done the same for him after all.

He reached out and pulled her into a hug. She buried her face into his fur ruff like she’d done before and he heard her sniff.

“There’s nothing you need to be ashamed of,” he said. “You’re beautiful. Your magic is part of what makes you beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she whispered after a moment.

Cullen held her for a moment longer before he finally let her go. When she straightened, he could see that her eyes were red with tears, but she swallowed them back.

“I almost forgot,” she said, pulling some papers out of her bag. “I have a gift for you.”

Surprised, he took the papers and opened them. They were letters, one of which referenced Samson.

“You found the smugglers,” he said, unable to keep himself from smiling.

“I thought it would be a good way to cheer you up,” she replied.

“It does more than that,” he said. He reached up to caress the side of her cheek. “It’s hope that I can give the templars that something about this fiasco can be put right.”

“Are the templars still talking Samson's betrayal hard?” Gwen asked.

“Yes, but this will help,” he replied. “Thank you. I know you didn’t have to do this.”

“I was glad to, my Lion,” she said.

Once again that warmth Cullen had felt earlier filled his chest and without a thought, he leaned forward to kiss her. Gwen kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her.

When they parted, Gwen smiled warmly, and her thumb gently caressed his cheek.

“Do you want to play a game of chess?” she asked.

He smiled at her and took her hand in his as he said, “Sure, I’ve got some time.”

As they walked back along the wall, Gwen wrapped her arm around his waist. Smiling, he placed his own arm over her shoulders pulling her close, never wanting to let her go.

 


End file.
